26 Ways to Say I Love You
by SuicidalToeSocks
Summary: The Alphabet Challenge issued by A Rose for Me-A Rose for You! 26 letters, 26 prompts, and 26 different pairings! Final Chapter: Ashyboyshipping - Duplica/Gary. Prompt: Zenith. Make sure you read the long Author's Notes, too.
1. You are Such an ANIMAL

**A/N: This is the challenge issued by A Rose for Me-A Rose for You! 26 prompts, each one starting with a different letter of the alphabet. I should be working on my May in Johto fic, but I couldn't help myself. **

**I think... I have a different pairing for every chapter. I really think I do. That should be fun!**

**Prompt 1: Animal****  
Pairing: Conjunctionshipping (Mars/Saturn)  
Warning: A bit sexually-themed. Nothing happens, though!**

"You're terrible!" Mars shouted from the doorway. "I don't know why I even put up with you sometimes, you're just a brainless horn dog! An animal all the way through!" And then she stalked out, her plaid green skirt swishing behind her with a length short enough to rival Dawn's. Saturn watched her leave, then fell back into the large bed, his bare arms stretched out on either side of him. He closed his eyes in an attempt to control his frustration and smacked a palm over his face.

It was _her_ idea! _She_ was the one who wanted to 'add a little spice to their _alone_ time.' So what did Mars do? Right as Saturn was taking off his shirt from another hard day at his new work, (because Team Galactic was no more at this point, thus their relationship could be taken to the next level,) Mars came sauntering into their bedroom with nothing but a minuscule little schoolgirl skirt and a tiny white shirt she unbuttoned halfway down her chest. I mean, with as much as she was showing, Saturn could have gone spelunking in that cleavage of hers!

What was it she had called it? Roleplay. That was it.

So Saturn had gone along with it. What was she expecting him to do with her in an outfit like that? There were only so many options! He could go along with it. He could ignore her. He could pounce on her and take her like a teenage boy, or he could ask her why she was dressed like a slut. He couldn't pick option four or two, because that would result in a night spent on the couch and would add absolutely nothing that would spice up their alone time.

So his options were only one and three, and he grew up getting an education in a stuffy private school, so option one was out, seeing as it would lead to a boring ending and him on the couch again. Besides, if she was a schoolgirl, then acting like a hormonal-crazed teenage boy would be just the thing. It was in character, right? And it didn't result in him on the couch. Well, so he thought.

But it ended up with Mars on the couch instead, which was even worse. When he got the couch, it meant she was mad, and it would pass in a few days. But when _Mars_ took to the couch, it meant she was disappointed and wouldn't be back until Saturn could make it up to her again. And he was really, really bad at that.

Saturn lay there, his pants held up by a thin, black leather belt, feeling the slick material of the comforter pressing against his bare back. He seemed to mess up a lot since Team Galactic disbanded, but there was nothing he could do about that. He just had to suck it up and get used to it.

Apologizing wouldn't work. It was too simple, and Mars was NOT the sappy dinner date kind of person. Saturn may have been a servant to the wrong side of the law, just like Mars, but did love the woman, and he hated to see her like she was. So he sat up and ran a hand through his hair, which was slowly losing its stiffness as the day wore on. He stood and leaned out the doorway, poking his head into the rest of the little flat apartment they shared. Mars was sitting on the couch, her arms folded, (causing her chest to become the focal point of the room, but Saturn somehow managed to avert his eyes,) with one leg crossed over the other. One of her tall socks had fallen down and wrinkled around her ankle, and the other stayed up around her leg. She was watching the tv without really seeing it, her anger clouding her vision.

"M-Mars?" Saturn called tentatively. She didn't react, save for the small flip of her head she used to clear her bangs out of her eyes. Saturn let out a sigh.

"Mars, are you okay?" he asked, knowing the answer. She didn't reply. "Sweetie, you know I didn't mean it like that! You know me better! Have I ever done anything even _remotely_ similar to that before?"

"Leave me alone." she said quietly, her arms clenching tighter around herself, as if hugging. Saturn leaned his head against the doorway and made the face. She couldn't resist the face. It was so damn cute, she couldn't help it. But she didn't look over at all, she continued to stare at the screen. Saturn came and sat beside her.

"Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" he asked after a pause. Mars shook her head slightly after a moment.

"No, you're terrible at roleplay. There's nothing you could do." she said. Saturn hated it when she pouted. He couldn't stand it. And when he was troubled, his brilliant mind went into overdrive. And he was struck by something.

" Are you sure?" he asked. She nodded. "But you said so yourself that I'm an animal."

Mars looked over at him. Saturn was looking at her strangely. She very rarely saw that look. He was slowly bringing both his legs up onto the couch. Mars turned to face him, but pushed back into the arm of the couch. Saturn was advancing on her slowly. He still had that look on his face.

"S-Saturn? What are you doing?"

"If I'm an animal, then an animal I will be." he said, and closed the distance between them. Mars wasn't quite sure what to make of his ridiculous behavior, but whatever it was... He was definitely making up for his inexcusable behavior.

She pushed him off her, broke their kiss, and raised an eyebrow. "And you know how you discipline animals with unruly behavior?" she asked quietly. The television in the background wasn't heard by either of them anymore.

"How?" Saturn was smirking now. He knew he had made a breakthrough. He knew he was on his way to get her off the couch and back in the bed.

"Sunday edition." she said. Saturn's face fell. Just when he thought he was getting through...

Mars grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him forward once more, seeing as he wasn't wearing a shirt she could do it with and brought his face close to hers, their noses touching.

"Am... I being forgiven?" He asked hopefully, his eyebrows raised, biting his lower lip gently. Mars laughed and pulled him closer on top of her. She planted a kiss on his lips.

"You're on your way." she said. "Now shut up." Their lips met.

Well, maybe he hadn't gotten her back in bed, but he had followed her to the couch, which was just as good.

**A/N: Ha, the first one is done! The second one will be much more innocent, I promise. But I still like this one, so review and let me know how it's going! **


	2. For the Love of BASEBALL

**A/N: I actually HAVE seen one episode with Casey in it, but it was so long ago, I hardly remember her, other than she's super-headstrong and loud. Either way, I doubt I'll get their personalities right enough, but bear with me here. **

**Prompt: Baseball  
Pairing: Nameshipping (Tracey/Casey)**

It was loud. Very loud.

Tracey wondered why he had listened to Todd in the first place. Baseball games were NOT an artistic experience. Maybe Todd liked them because he was a photographer, and he liked people. People were good subjects for photography. Sketching, on the other hand, required still subjects, and the people at the baseball games were NOT still.

Tracey was getting bumped and rustled no matter what he did. So he sat and watched, his sketchbook on his lap, while the crazy fans around him jostled him right and left, forward and backward, while the Electabuzz team played the Magmars. The game had only just begun, so the seats were still filling up. Not that Tracey cared. He was about to go give his seat to one of the people up n the bad seats way up top.

"Hiya, you an Electabuzz fan too?" A girl plopped down next to him, wearing a yellow and black striped shirt over a light blue one, the striped shirt unbuttoned and much too big for her, it seemed. Her pants were a pair of white and black-striped shorts that looked like they would be very cold in the early spring like it was.

"Er, not exactly." Tracey answered. The girl narrowed her eyes at him and got her face extremely close to him, looking him up and down. Tracey backed up a little ways in his seat, turning his head away. This girl was making him very uncomfortable...

"Are you a Magmar fan, then?" she asked quietly. Tracey shook his head. She was leaned forward on the armrests, her arms supporting her up as she leaned into Tracey. When she continued to look at him suspiciously, he shook his head again, harder this time.

"No, I'm just here because I was told it would be an artistic experience." he said with a smaller voice than he usually used. "Now, would you please, um, let me sit in my chair for the rest of the game properly?"

"Sure!" The girl brightened up instantly and sat back in her chair, her face aglow with happiness (not the fluorescent stadium lights.) "If by artistic experience you mean totally awesome experience, then yes, it WILL be very artistic!" She pounded her fists in anticipation on the armrests. "I can't wait!"

"I... take it you're a hardcore fan then?" he asked, judging by her attire and attitude about Tracey supporting the other team. She was wearing their colors, a hat bearing the little lightning bolt symbol of the team, and what looked like one of their actual uniforms. The only things that were out of place were her bright purple pigtails, which stuck out of her head at an odd angle behind her.

"Oh yeah! I love the Electabuzz team!" she said. "Ever since I was a little girl! They're the greatest team ever!" And then she broke into the Electabuzz theme song, belting it out loudly for everyone around her to hear. Which resulted in some annoyed fans throwing popcorn at her. Tracey shook his head and laughed. She sounded as into the team as he was with his sketching. She was pretty individual, he'd give her that. He took out his sketchbook and pulled his pencil out of the binding.

"Whatcha got there?" Casey asked, leaning over on the armrest again. Tracey, who hadn't even put one line on the paper yet, tilted the pad towards her to see.

"A sketch pad. I love drawing." he said. "Like you, I've been drawing since I was little." He was involuntarily smiling now. "It's why I was here, but everybody moves too much to be drawn."

"Are you any good?" Casey asked, looking from the paper to him under the brim of her baseball cap. Tracey shrugged.

"I'm not the best, but I'd like to think I'm fairly good." he said. Casey took a moment to soak that in, then snatched the book from him and flipped it open to the front page, where his Marill was sketched, splashing in a puddle of water. Her eyes widened a little bit, and she flipped to the next page. She kept flipping the pages, each picture better than the next.

"Fairly good?" she said, flipping the pages faster. "You're fantastic! Everything looks so life-like!" She stopped on a picture of an Elekid, his fists sparking with electricity. Tracey nodded.

"I thought you would like that one when you came to it." he said. "You seem like that type."

"Oh ho ho!" Casey said suddenly, turning to the page to a different picture. "Who's the nurse?" Tracey grinned sheepishly at the picture; it was the one he had drawn of the Nurse Joy they met on the islands that saved the Magikarp that turned into a Gyarados. "Someone you _liiiiiike_?"

"No, just a pretty girl I wanted to add. Pretty subjects make sketchbooks that much more exciting." he tried to explain. But Casey just smiled and elbowed him gently in a provocative way.

"Sure, sure. You totally had the hots for her." she winked. Tracey rolled his eyes.

"Even if I had, she lives somewhere in the Orange Islands and is always on call. We're nowhere _near_ there, and I'm usually not around there anyway. "I'd look for a girlfriend around here, or one that will travel with me if I was going after anybody."

"That makes sense." Casey answered. "I'd have to find someone that likes travel too. I move wherever the Electabuzz are playing, and I'm a trainer too, so I'm always on the go." She flipped another page. You know, when she wasn't yelling at the game or getting in his face about whether he was rooting for the other team or not, she was pretty alright...

Before Tracey knew it, there were a couple of people who asked him to scoot in so they could get past. And then, there came some more. Tracey looked up, and then elbowed Casey, who was still engrossed in his sketchbook.

"Casey, what's the seventh inning stretch?" he asked. Casey looked sharply up and groaned.

"Oh no! I've spent the whole game looking at your pictures! I missed all of it!" Her eyes glanced over at the scoreboard, and her demeanor relaxed. "Oh, I guess it's okay, they're winning." She turned back to Tracey. "We've got, like, half an hour before the next part of the game starts, so can I ask a question?"

Tracey looked up at her, and she was holding out the sketch pad and pencil to him, her face set firmly with determination.

"Draw me. You're good, I want to see if you can draw me."

"That sounds more like a command than a question." he laughed, but took both the objects from her. "But sure, I can try." And Tracey sat back, sideways in his chair, and began sketching her. The light curve of her cheek, the sharp contrast of purple hair, shaded dark grey with the pencil. The gentle transition from stadium-lit skin to the hat-brim shadow cast on her face, and shining, bright eyes. Tracey slowly captured it all in his sketch, drawing each line with careful precision.

"Are you done yet?" Casey asked. Tracey, who's tongue was sticking out in concentration, nodded.

"Yep. Just a little more..."

"Oooooh!" said the guy behind him. "Hey, look at the screen, guy!" Tracey looked up at him, miffed that his concentration was broken.

"Huh?"

"Go on, do it!" said a guy, three rows down, who was turned around in interest at Tracey, it appeared. He was completely confused, but Casey seemed to know what was going on, and she was a bright red color.

"Um, what are they talking about..?"

"Tracey..." Casey was hardly able to speak through her embarrassment. So instead, she just pointed at the giant screen that funny little animations played on occasionally, which was now showcasing... a picture of the pair of them?

Up the side of the screen, a large pink bar was placed, with various little pink ribbons adorning the words 'KISSING CAM.'

Tracey felt a blush blossom up on his cheeks as well. He and Casey were on the Kissing Cam? But he'd only just met her! And he was in the middle of his drawing, besides! He turned away and tried to go back to his drawing, but the entire stadium went up in a roar of boos and hisses. Casey just turned another shade of red.

"Come on, everyone else does it!" said the man behind him. Tracey tried to ignore it. He really did. But the boos grew louder, and the pushed from the people seated around him grew louder until he couldn't focus if he tried. He threw down his pencil and book and glared angrily at the spot where he was placed on the giant screen, not completely knowing where the camera was that was looking at him. He opened his mouth and threw his arms out.

"What do you want me to do, huh? What do you–" But Tracey was cut off. He was cut off by a girl with purple hair in a Team Electabuzz uniform throwing herself at his face, their lips connecting smoothly. The crowd erupted in cheers all around, and some even laughed at Tracey, who was at a loss for words. Well, he would be if he could speak, anyway. But before he knew what was happening to him, he had closed his own eyes like Casey and hugged her closer, deciding that maybe it wasn't half bad. The crowd gave a little "_Ooooh!_" at his actions, but he didn't care. For that matter, neither did Casey.

They finally pulled away, and the camera noticed and moved on to some other couple. Casey just looked at him, the brim of her baseball cap pressed against his forehead. Tracey looked at her curiously.

"Well, that was unexpected. Why the red face?"

"Why do you think?" she asked, suddenly realizing their position and moving back to her seat. "I was just on the Kissing Cam with someone I've only known for maybe an hour." Tracey just smiled and picked up his pencil and sketchbook again, noticing the light blush that was still on her cheeks. He showed them to her.

"Get back in position, I still have to finish your sketch, you know." he said. She looked up at him, wondering how calm and normal he could be after that! When he looked up quickly from his sketch and met her eyes, he smiled gently once more. "I already told you, pretty subjects make sketchbooks that much more exciting."

So maybe baseball games weren't that bad after all...

**A/N: It was too good to pass up, I had to do the prompt for these two. There was no avoiding it. **

**This... is a lot of fun! Something different every chapter, I love it!**


	3. What a Bright CAP you Have!

**A/N: I've been meaning to do a shipping like this for a while now...**

**Prompt: Cap  
Pairing: Mossshipping (Roark/Gardenia)**

The Floaroma Meadow was a cool, lazy haven compared to the Oreburgh mines. Where headlamps shone, sunlight took its place. Where dirt and rocks were abundant, flowers grew in vast, colorful quantities. Where there were large, sweaty men mining for coal and fossils and precious gems, there was peace, quiet, and the sweet scent of flowers. This was why Roark liked this place best.

Don't get me wrong, he loved mining up treasures and fossils! He loved getting his knees dirty as he picked his way through a particularly shifty spot, and he loved the danger involved when routing a new tunnel through foreign dirt. But sometimes, between the gym and the mine, he just liked to sit back and relax and do something different with his time besides training. Of course, he never told his dad where he was. As much as he loved the old man, he would never let his son live it down if he heard that he was spending free time in a flowery meadow instead of the manly mines. It wasn't proper, manly behavior.

So Roark would quietly sneak out of the city as the day ended, taking the short hike over to Floaroma Meadow, where he would plop himself down and look at the sky, the plethora of rainbow flowers, and smell the sweet scent of them until he nearly drifted off to sleep. This time though, there would be a little bit of a damper in his plans.

The day started off like any other. Roark had gotten up, gone off to the mines, found come cool stuff, like a whole Bastiodon fossil he was sure his dad would absolutely love, and even the rare Lileep fossil that was usually only found in the Hoenn region! That he pocketed for later. After that he checked in at the gym to check if there were any trainers waiting, and when he found there were none, he told the gym receptionist that he wouldn't take any trainers for the rest of the day, then hiked off to Floaroma Meadow yet again for another relaxing time to just lose it all.

Only, there was one problem. When Roark arrived, there was a person sitting in his spot at the hill, looking out into the rest of the meadow. Roark put his hands on his hips and started towards the intruder, ready to give whomever it was a good talking to about taking other people's spots. However, his thunder suddenly fizzled out when said intruder turned around at the sound of his footsteps.

It was a girl.

A _pretty_ girl.

"Hey!" said the pretty girl brightly, hopping up on her feet. "You come to this meadow too? My name's Gardenia, I'm the gym leader over in Eterna city on the other side of the forest! Who're you?"

Roark didn't think he could talk if he tried. But he was too focused on trying not to gawk. She had a big, forest-green poncho on that matched her hiking boots, and a pair of baggy cargo shorts that looked as if they had been gnawed off at the knee in bright orange that matched her hair. Her eyes, though, were a stunning golden-orange that seemed to light up her entire face with her glow. Roark felt himself blush.

"Hello?" Gardenia waved a hand in front of his face, her expression confused. He certainly was acting strange, wasn't he? But she happened to glance down at the hem of his jacket and saw a small, clip-on ID card on an elastic cord. Happily she grabbed it, causing Roark to finally snap out of his trance and stumble forward, closer to the pretty girl, and causing his blush to deepen.

"Oh, Roark! You're the owner of Oreburgh gym, right? You're the Sinnoh newbie!" she grinned and Roark rubbed the back of his neck, biting his lip in an embarrassed manner.

"Um, yeah, that's me, Roark the gym leader... Sinnoh Newbie..." He tried to ignore the title. Great. He was pegged as the newbie, and that alone had forever ruined his chances of impressing this girl. However, Gardenia laughed and put his name tag back in place.

"Don't think of it like that, think of it as..." Gardenia put a finger to her chin in thought as she looked Roark over. "Okay, think of it as your first time down in a mine." Roark looked over at her curiously, with one eyebrow raised. "Yeah! What's the first thing that you do when you're first down in the mine?"

"I put on my helmet to keep things from falling on my head." he answered. Gardenia, who was looking so proud of herself for her (apparently?) clever connection between mining and being a gym leader, deflated and folded her arms. Her poncho rose, and Roark saw a bare stomach beneath it. Oh Arceus, it was getting harder to contain himself every minute longer he was around her...

"Well, forget the analogy." she said finally. "Just don't think about being the newbie, you're one of us now, so nobody cares if you're new or not. It's just the fact that you're a gym leader now. And before we get off the subject of mining and safety helmets, can I see yours?" Roark didn't have time to be surprised, nor to protest. Gardenia just reached up and took his had off his reddish brown hair and plopped it down on her own head.

"Does it even turn on?" she asked, peeking out from under the brim at him. "It's such a cool cap!" Roark thought it again; she was too darn cute for her own good. Luckily, it was growing dark, so she probably didn't notice his blush when he (not on purpose, mind you!) caught a double-meaning to the first question. Instead he laughed and reached out, grabbing her hand and touching her finger to a button on the side of the helmet. Smiling, she pushed it.

Which was the wrong thing to do.

A bright light on top of her head came on. Unfortunately for Roark, it was working, and was shining directly in his face. A light so powerful it was meant to bring brightness to the deepest, darkest of tunnels shone directly into his face. His eyes were open and everything! His hand flew to his face and he let out a strangled yelp, then lost his balance when he stumbled backward up the small, slanted hill. Gardenia was hopping up and down from one foot to the other, her hands clasped over her mouth, her eyes wide and alarmed.

"Oh my gosh, I am sorry! I'm _so_ sorry! I didn't mean to, I had no idea it was right in your face!" Gardenia didn't notice Roark teetering, and before she knew what had happened, the pair of them were falling down the hill, rolling over one another, until they finally hit the bottom with one final thud. Roark was lying on his back, and slowly opened his eyes to find Gardenia propped up above him, her own eyes screwed shut, trying to block out the sharp pain that came with the falling down a hill.

To their right, there was a small path of torn, beaten-up flowers where the two had rolled down the hill. And back above him, Gardenia was just starting to open her eyes. The mining hat lay to their left, shining the bright light back up at the girl, causing her already bright eyes to make her glow that much more when they finally opened. The hat shone a halo of light was encircling her head. For the life of him, Roark could not stop staring. Gardenia stared right back, their eyes connected, and a jolt of electricity flew through them both. And when the moment passed, both gym leaders turned bright red at their... compromising position. Gardenia quickly rolled off and stood up, brushing off the grass stains from her orange shorts.

She cleared her throat. "Um, sorry about that. I didn't blind you, did I?" She looked up at him tentatively through her lashes. Roark stood and rubbed the back of his bare head, shaking it gently.

"I'm good, I think my glasses may have deflected some of it." he said with a smile. She looked up and locked eyes again with him. She smiled back, bent down to pick up his helmet, and handed it to him with one outstretched arm.

"It's getting late," she said. "I'm going to have to be getting back to my gym." Roark reached out for his helmet and took it in one hand.

"Yeah, I should be too–" he started, but was cut off by Gardenia. Now that they were safe on flat land, she deemed it okay to yank the red hard hat towards her, Roark still attatched. She caught him at a standstill when her lips connected with his cheek quickly, then released his hat and made her way across the vast meadow, in the opposite direction Roark was going.

"I'll see you later, okay?" she called behind her. Roark just kind of stood there and waved a weak goodbye with a dumb grin on his face, his hard hat hanging limp at his side.

Maybe he ought to take a break from the meadow and spend his free time in Eterna forest now. It was much more manly! Besides, he may just run into Gardenia again... He might just get her a hard hat of her own. He could try her own little trick on her and see what she would do!

**A/N: I seriously had no idea where to end this. I knew what I was going to do, but it morphed into something COMPLETELTY different, and I didn't know what to do with it. I... I cant believe me. I'm so bad at this, haha. **


	4. Dear DIARY, There's a New Kid in Town

**A/N: The italic parts are anything written down. The rest of it is like a normal story.  
****Which it should not be, because this is just a prompt and I should not end up writing an entire oneshot for every one of them. I write too much…**

**Prompt: Diary  
****Pairing: Roxanne/Brawly (I don't know the name for this ship!)**

_September 16_

_Dear Diary,_

_We got a new student in class today. His name sounds weird… Brawly. Kind of like someone who likes to fight a lot. He's from Dewford, that little island down off the coast just between the forest and Petalburg. I haven't talked to him at all, but from what I've seen during lunch break and even during the lessons (!) he's quite the show off, and likes to be the center of attention. Well, let him, I say. It's one less person to bother me when I'm trying to study._

_He's an attention hog. There's almost always a crowd of girls around him, cooing and giggling at him. He's a surfer. He prefers play over work, and doesn't seem to want to work for anything, since it looks like it's given right to him! The boys love him for his atheletic ability and personality charm. The girls love him for his looks and the attention he gives them. I think I'm the only one who sees him for the arrogant jerk he is. _

Roxanne put the small diary down in her desk once more. The lesson had begun. Quickly, she pulled her notebook out for notes, not wanting to miss a thing. The tried desperately to ignore the boy next to her with spiky, cerulean locks. He looked like a doll that had been tossed into a chair carelessly; one arm was hooked over the back, his head was lolling to one side as his unfocused eyes stared blankly at the board. His posture was atrocious, slouched, as if he were nearly lying down in his chair, with both his one knee bent and the other rigidly straight, resting on the floor in front of him.

A desk of girls on the other side of Roxanne sighed dreamily, staring very obviously at him. Out of the corner of her eye, Roxanne saw him point his finger at them and give a little wink. They broke into a fit of giggles and turned back to the lesson, trying to catch his eye with theirs every other moment . Roxanne, however, stayed perfectly still, save for her writing hand, which was scribbling hardly legible notes into her notebook, so small it was a wonder they could be deciphered at all.

Roxanne felt eyes on her. She tried to ignore it, she really did! But the more brawly stared at the side of her head, the more she felt compelled to take her pencil and gouge it into his nearest eye. She resisted this urge and spared a moment to glare at him out of the corner of her eye before turning back to her noted. Brawly grinned; she had noticed him staring, perfect. Step one, complete.

Brawly leaned in towards Roxanne, and he saw her go visibly ridged as he did so. Another good sign! Pencil in hand, he wrote her a note in the margin of her notebook. Roxanne clenched her fist around her pencil. Her notes. Her neat, hardly-legible notes were now soiled with the handwriting of the showy, attention-hog new kid.

_hi there. wat u doin?_

Roxanne quickly erased all traces of social activity from her notes, but the pencil marks that never completely went away remained on the page. She stared at them, then glared at him.

"I'm trying to take notes." she hissed. "Something you should be doing as well."

_notes are 4 ppl who need em. im smart enuf w/o them._

Roxane felt a little ill. Chatspeak? On a piece of paper? On _her notes_?! Oh, this boy was going to die by her hand if this kept up.

"Notes are for people who want to make something of their life." Roxanne said quietly. Brawly shrugged, ignored the fact that his writing on her notes was pissing her off, and wrote a response.

_i alredy kno wat im gona b. im gona b the dewford town gym leader!_

Roxanne scoffed audibly and began her erasing again, oblivious to the stares she and Brawly were attracting. The new kid, the flirt, the show-off, the cute one? Talking to Roxanne as if… he had an interest in her? It wasn't possible.

"Sure. You couldn't become a gym leader if you tried." Roxanne said. "Just look at you. I bet you hardly ever train your pokemon properly and just play with them, right?"

_is that a challenge?_ he wrote. There was a smirk on his face now, one that showed his belief that he was winning this fight, but she didn't know it yet. _ill see you at the beach for a battle at five. then well see whos better suited for gym leader._

"I accept." Roxanne said, nodding. Brawly stuck out his hand and they both shook on it. Right under his words, he wrote five more. Five little words that made Roxanne's calmed blood boil anew.

_Itll be like a date!_

"No!"

"Miss Tsutsuji, would you please stop interrupting your class by trying to talk to our new student while I am trying to teach?" said the teacher, turning around. Roxanne felt her face flush under her dark brown bangs. She turned back to face the front of the room, eyes staring straight ahead, and put her pencil to her notes once more, not noticing the hand that crept on to her notes until after it had written and pulled away.

_this is y u shud rite notes like me. No tlkn involvd._

_September 17_

_Dear Diary,_

_I lost. I can't believe I lost! I lost the battle to a prick like Brawly! Ohh, that boy makes me so mad! He thinks he can just waltz on in here and take _my_ dream of being a gym leader? It was getting dark around five, and I thought he was going to call off the battle, but he was tossing a poke ball up and down when I got to the beach, saying "What took you so long?" _

_I asked him if he was going to call it off and he said no, because that was what he was going to do when he was a gym leader; keep the lights turned all the way off, to test the bravery of his challengers. What an idiot! Darkness is no challenge, and it certainly does not need bravery to be faced!_

_He uses fighting-type pokemon. We only did a one-on-one battle, because obviously, the winner would be apparent after that. He used a Makuhita! While all I had was my precious Geodude!… the poor thing was smashed into the ground. Afterwards, (I'm ashamed to say I did this,) I kicked at the sand and sat down, my arms crossed on top of my knees. I pouted. I really did. _

_Brawly came and sat beside me, as if it would make me feel better, when what he should have done was walk away without another word, back to Dewford town. In Rustburo, we don't like surfer boys, we like the scholarly boys. The smart ones over the dim. But he sat anyway, as unwelcome as could be, and leaned up so he could see my face. _

_He started talking to me. Quietly, trying to distract me. We talked about pokemon and what types we preferred. I like the rock type. Strong, dependable, rooted, and tough. He likes the fighting type. He says they're solid, quick-footed and strong. They are, I don't deny it. But then, after I talked about rock pokemon, he got this light bulb above his head and started digging around in his pocket, which was hidden under that obnoxious orange shirt of his. He pulled out a pokeball. _

"_I caught this back home in Granite Cave." he said. "But I wasn't going to use the guy, so, since you like rock-types, I figure you'd be able to care for him and love him more than a guy who was born to surf and fight." It was a Nosepass! I sat in disbelief and hardly noticed him staring at me. And then he stood up and walked away and said he'd see me later tomorrow. No gloating, no rubbing it in my face, just up and left. _

_I wonder what he's trying to pull._

Roxanne shut her diary once more, stuck it into her book bag, and crawled into bed. It had been a week since the battle had happened, and she continued to update her diary every day. Brawly had been a particularly popular subject in there for a while now, since his challenge to battle. She was about ready to turn off the light, when she heard a noise outside. Like a tree branch hitting her window.

Only, there were no trees in Rustburo that grew tall enough to reach the second-story apartment building window that she lived in with her parents. She pushed the comforter off herself and stumbled to the window in her PJ pants and tank, wondering what was going on with a lazy, sleep-deprived mind. It was Friday night! Who was out this late on a Friday night? (…)

She pushed the window open and down on the front of her lawn stood the new boy, teal hair blown sideways by the breeze, and… not wearing a shirt. Or pants, for that matter, but swimming trunks. Roxanne had had a harder time ignoring the boy with each passing day she knew him, and they were getting close to the point where they might pass each other in the hallway as one might an acquaintance. Roxanne, bookworm and Smarty Skirt, had an acquaintance!

"What are you doing here dressed like that?" she hissed. "If my parents see you over here at eleven thirty like this…"

"I want to show you something!" he said. "Come down here, and bring your swimsuit!" And he dashed off, leaving Roxanne stunned, sleepy…and just a tad bit curious.

She rolled her eyes, shut the window, and dug around for her old one-piece.

The one that, she found out upon discovering it, didn't fit anymore. Damn her for growing so fast! Damn those hormones!

She dug around some more, and came up with a small tankini she had been given by her mother. She sighed. It was too revealing for her, but it would have to work. She threw it on, tossed her pajama pants over the bottoms, and grabbed the first pokeball she passed on her desk on her way out.

Roxane jogged down to the beach, but found no one. She sighed. Something bad was going to happen now. Maybe he found a way to get all the boys from class together to make her look like an idiot for actually believing him and coming down to the beach at half past eleven. Maybe he was going to make her stand out there in the chilly night air all night, in hopes that he'd be there soon. Maybe-

Her thoughts stopped abruptly. She heard the rush of a particularly large wave, and whirled around, hoping it wasn't coming for her, because then she'd get her pants all wet and she'd have to explain them to her mother. But what she was Brawly, arms stretched out on either side of him, his feet shoulder-width apart, and his blue hair whipping about in the wind that tunneled through the cylinder of water around him. Why was he surfing at a time like this?! There could be Sharpedos hidden in the water anywhere!

"Hey!" she yelled, cupping her hands over her mouth. "Hey, you could get hurt!" But he just waved at her genially, a big, silly grin on his face. And then, he floated up to shore on the last little roll of surf and slid nicely into the sand, his arms wide and chest out in a very "Ta-daaaaa!" pose.

"You idiot! You could have gotten eaten by a Sharpedo!" she snapped, stomping over to him. "You could have fallen off and cracked your head on a rock or drowned or something!"

"You were worried about me." Brawly said suddenly with an enlightened smirk. "You were worried I was going to get hurt!"

"I was not!" Roxanne defended. "I just know I'm going to get blamed for something if it happens to you, though. That's what's been happening to me these past few days, ever since you came along."

"Sure, whatever. But you were worried!" He sang, dancing around in a circle. "You were worried, you were worried…"

"Why did you want me to come out here anyway?" she asked to interrupt him. He stopped his skipping in front of her. The moon shone down on the both of them. They were standing extremely close. Well, not that close, but it felt like it to her. Her chest pounded. Her breath caught. She was standing on a beach with a cute guy. Wait, cute guy? Scratch that thought. He was looking down at her, and the moon was shining down on both of them. She saw it catch in his eyes, eyes the same color as his hair.

She was not. She was not going to kiss an obnoxious , cute boy she had known for all of a week and a half on a moonlit beach at midnight. Minus the cute. _She was not._

"Well, to be honest, I've been reading your diary." Brawly admitted. "And it's pretty boring, though it's been more interesting since I came into the picture. You really think I'm a ladies man?"

Roxane fumed. The Romantic Record scratched somewhere. The moon was laughing at her. The tide was laughing at her. The invisible students that were not scattered around the beach like the thought might have been were laughing at her. But she didn't have time to speak. There was too much laugher.

"And I decided you needed a little spark in your kind of dull life." Brawly said. "So I thought I'd add a little spice to it. First you can write about me and my sexy-bodied self throwing rocks at your window, being utterly romantic like I am, and then you can write about how you saw me being the greatest surfer on earth, watching me move gracefully from wave to wave like the pro that I am…" He thought about it for the moment. "Hey, that sounded really good…"

"Brawly…" Roxanne's hands were clenched into fists now. Her teeth gritted. The moon was cowering behind a whispy little cloud. The tide quieted, but the wind picked up and blew a heavy gust over the empty beach, save for two people.

"And I figured I'd teach you how to surf." he said finally. "When there was nobody around to laugh at you if you mess up, so you can have a talent to brag about one day, so you could spend a little time with me and see that I'm not the big jerk you write me out to be." And he gave a little smile. The moon came out from behind the clouds. The surf started on a quiet whoosh. Roxanne's fire died away little by little.

_September 24_

_Dear Diary_

_I learned how to surf last night. It's kind of a funny story, actually…_

**A/N: Like I said, too long.  
****I… like this pairing. But I can never get them to work in my head. The prompt helped me out. Say thank you to the prompt, children! ****I love the pairings for the next two chapters. I REALLY do.**


	5. He Means EVERYTHING to Me

**A/N: I don't care what anyone says. These two are undeniably cute, and it's one-sided cannon anyway. **

**This has a reference to Darkflame414's second chapter for this challenge! Go review hers and see if you can spot it! -shameless plug-**

**Prompt: Everything**

**Pairing: Harley/Soledad (I don't know the name for this pairing, either...)**

"Popcorn."

"Movies."

"Makeup."

"Nail polish."

"Pillows."

"Sleeping bags!"

"Then... I guess we're ready!" Soledad cheered. She was in her pajamas, a pair of baggy old lounge pants with a pokeball pattern on them, held up by a flimsy drawstring, and a white tank top that made sleep possible in the muggy climate of Pewter City.

Harley dove into the pile of slumber party stuff, being the first to roll out his sleeping bag on the floor of the living room. Soledad followed right after, untying hers, opening it, and spreading it out on the floor and seating herself on to of it, hugging her pillow to her chest.

"So, what first?" asked the purple-haired man. He held up a plethora of movies, ranging from _Free Willy: The Story of a Wailmer!_ to _The Last Rapidash_. Soledad put a hand over her eyes in the way she used to do it as a kid to decide on the movies, drew one out, and then opened them to check which one it was.

_Skitties Don't Dance_.

"Yes! I loved that movie when I was little!" she said, pushing herself up off the floor and wading through the slumber party mess to get to the movie player under her tv. Once in place, she quickly came back and sat again. This time, Harley held up the old box of makeup that Soledad hardly ever used.

"Time for your makeup, sweetie!" he said. Soledad laughed. That was Harley's favorite part, the makeover. Since Soledad hardly ever had time to put on makeup herself, (if she even knew how, anyway,) Harley used to take the time to do it for her on sleepovers like this. And since this was the first one they'd been able to have in a long time, (almost a year now,) he was going to chalk it up while he could. She always looked so gorgeous when he made her over, anyway.

"Oh, great. When are you going to let me just be myself? I don't need makeup to look pretty!" Soledad protested, then struck a movie star pose where she sat. Harley laughed, as did she, then pulled her closer to him.

"You're right, you don't." he said as he pulled out a little brush to apply something for her eyelashes in black. Well, she assumed it was for her eyelashes, anyway. "But there's no problem with showing off what you _do_ have, so why not play it up a bit?"

"I guess you're right..." she said, her eyes looking off in a different direction and a pink blush blossoming across her face. Harley didn't notice, however, and just told her to open her eyes and look up so he could apply some eyeliner to her lower lid.

Soledad had been friends with Harley for as long as she could remember. She had shared everything with him, from the day they had met and she confessed to him her love of baby pokemon to every aspect of her once-upon-a-time relationship with the Champion of both Johto and Kanto to coordinating strategies. He was her closest friend, and she had missed these little best-friend sleepovers they used to have as kids, which is why they were having one now, even as adults. The only thing about this one was that, as adults, there was a small difference.

Somewhere along the line of them running off one day as reckless teenagers to become coordinators and the present, Soledad fell in love with the man. He was everything to her. From the wavy purple locks to the little diamond he cut out on the stomach of his shirt to the white-heeled boots he wore, she loved it all. She knew he had tried to sabotage May in the Grand Festival, and she knew his immense hatred of the girl, just because she refused a cookie from him. And as irrational as his anger was, she knew how much he loved those cookies, and she knew how touchy he was about them.

The only thing Soledad had never shared with him was this feeling. This feeling that was so much stronger than that of the one she had felt for Lance. But she'd swallow the heavy flutter of her heart when she saw him, and she'd suppress the large grin she felt coming and turn it into a small smile. She do her best to hide all traces of feeling from her persona whenever he was around for two reasons.

Soledad didn't want to scare him off. They had been friends for most of her life, and she knew him like the back of her hand, for the most part. If she were to suddenly profess her love for him after all these years, after all they'd been through, he might look at her strangely and then tell her that their friendship was over. She would rather have him as a friend than not at all.

And then, of course, she was still up in the air about whether he was... well, gay or not.

"I don't think you need any blush at all, my dear!" Harley cooed. "Your cheeks are certainly pink enough already. What's wrong?" He suddenly looked at her slyly, out of the corners of his eyes. "Are you blushing?" he teased. Soledad laughed, but it was hollow.

"Blushing? Me?" she asked, folding her arms. "Why on earth would I be blushing? It's just really hot! Pewter City always gets hot like this in the summer, you know that!"

He raised an eyebrow at her. Somehow, he really doubted her explanation, but he would let it slide... for now.

"Sure, sure, whatever." he said, shrugging. "but don't think you're going to get out of it that easily. Now, let me see your hands, your manicure gets worse and worse every time I see you."

So Soledad gave him her hands, which he promptly dropped into a bowl of warm water (which she had no idea he had; he probably went to get it while she was daydreaming).

"Harley, you know well enough that with all the training I do that any kind of manicure you give me will always be in vain." Soledad rolled her eyes. But she let out an involuntary smile when he reached into the bowl and took her hands in his to massage in the water with some other sort of lotion or something. It sent tingles down her spine.

"But it looks pretty! It's a wonder you managed to win the last Grand Festival, with your nails looking how they did. I mean, you're supposed to look nice along with your pokemon!" Soledad looked away to hide the blush that crept up her cheeks again. Hopefully he wouldn't see it in the light blue light cast off by the television. "Besides, Sweetie, beauty is most becoming to you."

Soledad looked up and found him staring at he with those not-quite blue, not-quite green eyes. He had leaned forward and was staring at her in the most scrutinizing manner possible. Soledad's eyes grew wide as he continued to stare. Her bangs fell in front of her face, and she felt very much like leaning back and away, but there was something about the stare of his that kept her from doing so.

"Um, Harley?"

"I _knew_ you were blushing!" he said finally, his face splitting into a grin. "I knew it!"

"I'm not–"

"You are so!" he interrupted. "You are so, and I can't tell if it's from me or the compliments!" Harley leaned in closer, and she turned her head once more and wouldn't meet his eye.

"It's me!" he exclaimed suddenly, pulling back and clapping his hands together. "No way, it's me, isn't it?"

"I..." Soledad knew it was fruitless to argue. As much as he seemed not to be at times, she knew he had a pretty brilliant mind, and he knew when he was right. "Yes, it's you." Yet, he still seemed surprised that she would admit to it that easily. "you giving me these compliments... and... I mean... well..." she dug for the right words, and the movie in the background seemed louder than usual, which confused her thoughts and scrambled her mind. "I love you, Harley!"

A record scratched at her sudden outburst. Harley's smug look vanished. Soledad sat there, her legs crossed beneath her, shoulders sitting somewhere around her ears, and the granddaddy of all blushes smeared across her face. Slowly, Harley grew a light blush to match.

"I have for a while. But I didn't want to tell you because we're friends and I don't want to ruin that and because... because..." she began to lose her spark. Harley's thumb caressed hers. Apparently his hands were still holding hers in that warm bowl of water, which was growing steadily colder. But the reason for her stuttering was Harley's face, getting closer to hers, until the tips of their noses were touching.

"Because..?" he asked quietly. The world grew silent and leaned in to listen to them. Soledad's breath caught in her throat.

"Yeah..." she breathed. "Because." And then her lips touched his and her eyes immediately closed. His hands squeezed around hers once in that bowl, and she inhaled deeply through her nose. Just this one, simple kiss from Harley was many, many times better than any of those she had gotten from Lance. But at least he was over her, since she had heard he was seeing the Champion of Sinnoh now. But none of that mattered. All that she cared about was Harley, here and now.

But the sweet moment ended too soon, and they pulled away, though she was still drunk from the romance of the moment, and stared at him through half-lidded eyes. She giggled when she saw the same look in his gaze.

"Well," he said, "that certainly explains a lot."

"I don't have to worry about the 'because' anymore." Soledad said then. Harley rolled his eyes.

"Hun, I figured you of _all_ people would know very well I swing the right way!" he said, pretending to be aghast. Soledad pulled her hands out of the bowl of water and leapt over it, tackling Harley to the ground, the aura of happiness excreting from every pore on her body.

"And I'm so very glad you do!" she smiled down at him and kissed him again, once, and quickly. "Now, I don't know about you, but I'd kind of like to continue our little slumber party." She grinned happily. "This is probably my favorite one yet."

**A/N: It's a sleepover, nothing bad happens! D:**

**I had another idea for this, but I might use it for a different chapter later. Either way, I don't think I can write these two. As I've already said before, Harley is on the list of people I can't write.**


	6. We Didn't Start the FIRE

**A/N: From what little I remember of the anime, Blane's gym was in a volcano, suspended over a bunch of lava. And he had a Magmar. But keep in mind, I was, like, seven when I saw it, and I never got that far in Yellow, and I don't own Fire Red/Leaf Green. So, if I'm wrong, humor me and let it pass as Creative License.**

**Prompt: Fire****Pairing: Arsonshipping (Blaine/Flannery)  
Disclainmer: I love that song. But it isn't mine, so don't freak out on me, please. I just play it in my car when I'm going to school to try and get me pumped for the day.**

It was hot, just the way she liked it.

Flannery, the fire master of Hoenn, decided to take a break. She loved her tiny little town, she loved the hot springs, and she loved the warm sand she could pack up in and relax away her troubles, and she loved her gym, filled with traps and trainers and steam. But once in a while, it was nice to take a break from it all.

Cinnabar Island, she heard, was a fire trainer's paradise! A dormant volcano, with sights of heat and bubbling lava for any tourist! However, her main reason for coming, aside from the volcano, was to have a match with the gym leader who resided there, Blaine. She wasn't sure what to expect. She had a picture in her mind of a guy with the attitude of Brawly; showy, a but arrogant, but skilled. And blonde, she thought he had blonde hair. But other than that, she had no thoughts about the man, having never met him.

When her boat arrived at the island, the first thing she asked when she hopped off was where the gym was. The man she asked directed her to a building that appeared to be built into the side of the volcano! Flannery gave a happy little hop at the thought of a gym being built _inside_ a volcano, and quickly ran in to find the leader at once. Blane couldn't be far, could he?

"I'm looking for Blane," Flannery said, slamming a hand down on the counter in front of the front receptionist and leaning on it, giving the lady a look out of the corner of her eye. The receptionist raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with the flashy entrance of this girl, and opened up a thick book and flipped to a page dated with the day's date.

"Do you have an appointment?" she asked in a voice that Flannery meant she was just being cast aside as a fangirl. This gym leader had fangirls? Oh boy, he must be smokin'! (Well, to pardon the pun...)

"No, but I'm a challenger! The name's Flannery, if you must know." she said, putting the other hand to the counter and leaning over, trying to appear more threatening to the lady. "Flannery of Hoenn. Someone must have heard of me."

The lady gave her a blank stare, one that didn't seem too impressed. "Fannery of who?"

"Flannery of Hoenn!" the girl threw her hands into the air. "You know, fourth gym leader of the Hoenn region? Lavaridge town? Fire master of the region?" With every suggestion, the lady's expression grew less and less impressed. "How do you not know me?! The region finally opened up to trainers not three years ago, and you've still never heard of me?"

"Sorry. Nobody gets in to see Blaine without an appointment for battle, or unless you can present the six other badges from Kanto here." she said. "Can you show me the six other badges from Kanto?"

"Well," Flannery removed her hands from the counter a bit timidly. "not really, no..."

"Then I'm afraid you don't get in to see the gym leader." she said snootily. "Come back when you have six other badges and then we'll talk, Fanny." And she went back to typing up something on her computer, her eyes lowered to the screen, her hand shooing Flannery on her way. The girl's internal fire extinguished and she turned away, her face fallen, heading out to challenge the other six leaders. But she felt a hand on her shoulder that made her turn around slowly. A warm, calloused hand.

"If she's a gym leader, that ought to qualify as ten badges at least, Becky." said a man's voice. "Cut her some slack, and cancel this hour's appointments, this young girl is taking the spot."

"Yes, sir." said the secretary, Becky, who was now looking quite ashamed of herself. Flannery looked up past her bright red bangs to see who had spoken, and saw a man, maybe eight inches taller than her, with a white moustache and tanned skin, wearing a pair of darn, round sunglasses and a labcoat. She raised an eyebrow as he lead her down the hall to an elevator, (one that seemed thicker and more padded than usual), where he released her shoulder.

"Sorry about her, she gets irritable when she's been working for this long. Besides, the repeated fangirls coming in to see me get on her nerves."

"Wait, so you're Blaine?" Flannery asked, looking up at him through narrowed eyes. The man looked down at her as well and gave her an odd sort of look. Though, she couldn't hardly tell with those glasses he was wearing.

"Yes, that'd be me." he said. Her jaw almost dropped to the floor of the elevator, which, she noticed, was getting hotter by the minute.

"But, where's your blonde hair?" she asked suddenly. "And your flower-print shirt? And your cargo shorts? And your surfboard?" she looked up at his bald head. "I mean, you don't _have_ hair! How can you be Blaine if you don't have hair?!"

"I take it you've heard rumors?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No, I guess I just thought you'd look... well, a little more teenager-surfer-esque than you do." she said. "Sorry. That was probably a rude outburst of mine." She traced her toe in little circles on the ground, then stood straight and cleared her throat. "I'm Flannery from Lavaridge in Hoenn. I'm the gym leader there."

"Well, Flannery from Lavaridge in Hoenn, it's certainly nice to meet you." Blaine said, catching her hand in his with a firm shake. "Even if you ware a bit rude." At her horrified face, he smiled warmly at her and lowered his glasses once to give her a wink, to let her know he was kidding. But then the doors to the elevator opened, and a wave of glorious heat washed over Flannery and the other man.

"Oh my gosh, is that really your gym?" she asked suddenly, her eyes lighting up like a little girl at Christmas. Blaine nodded.

"Yup, built right inside this dormant volcano. I bet you were expecting something different, right?"

"No! I knew it was inside a volcano, but... _wow_!" She darted out onto the main platform, which was suspended over searing hot lava below by thick iron chains that hung the gym high above the lava itself. Not that the height did much to shield the heat. "Look at this place! I wish my gym looked like this!" She turned around and stared at Blaine with the largest smile he'd ever seen before. "I mean, my gym only has fun little sand traps that double as portals to other parts of the gym! And it's filled with steam, so it's all hazy, but this is too impressive! It doesn't even need to be hi-tech!"

"Sounds like someone has a bad case of Gym envy." he said with a laugh. She turned to face him from the opposite side of the arena.

"You have no idea." she smiled. "So, about this battle... I was thinking non-traditional, one on one. My strongest versus your strongest. You game?"

Flannery was sure she saw a glint in those eyes that remained hidden behind those dark glasses. "A challenge like that would be fantastic. I haven't had one like that in years! Do you know which one is your pick?"

"I do." she said. "Torkoal, come on out!" Flannery tossed a pokeball onto the field, and out of it emerged a Torkoal, who snorted smoke out of his nose upon release. Blaine chuckled a bit and put a finger to his chin.

"Ah yes, I forgot that you were a fire trainer for a moment there, too." he said quietly. "Nevertheless, this should be an interesting battle! Go, Magmar!" He then tossed out a pokeball of his own, which released the pokemon, who breathed his own jet of flames into the air, ones which shot high enough to be seen through the hole in the top of the volcano by passersby outside the gym. It then lowered its head and began the stare down with Flannery's Torkoal. Flannery, however, was almost squealing with delight.

"Omigosh, a Magmar! I've always wanted one of those!" Her hands were clasped together and she was jumping up and down excitedly, having trouble resisting the urge to run out and cuddle it close like the toy doll she used to treasure so much as a child. "It's so cute, and so is Magby! You're so lucky!" She smiled over at Blane, who was amused by the girl's antics.

"I wouldn't try stalling, my dear," he cautioned. "there is still a battle to be had. Ladies first, I believe." He gave a little mock bow in her direction, and she smirked, then set her feet shoulder-width apart.

"Fine, then I will. Flamethrower, Torkoal!" she shouted, pointing out onto the field, where Blaine's Magmar stood ablaze. The pokemon ran forward, his eyes set with an identical determination his trainer had. Blaine was pretty impressed with the bond the two seemed to share. Nevertheless, then the pokemon opened its mouth and he saw the beginning spark of a flame in its throat, he sprung into action.

"Magmar, counter with a Flamethrower of your own! Show that Torkoal who's boss!" he commanded. Magmar didn't need to run forward, Blaine just watched in satisfaction as the beak of his beloved pokemon opened and released a torrent of flames, identical do the last spark to that of Torkoal's, aside from the difference of size; his was _much_ bigger, of course.

Torkoal held his ground pretty sturdily, he noticed, but Flannery knew when her pokemon was being pushed to its limit, and this was one of those times. She saw Torkaoal's feet slip back a few inches, and suddenly, it broke and jumped out of the way, letting the flames bypass it so it got out of harm's way. From across the field, Blaine shouted out to her.

"That was a pretty strong Flamethrower." he said. She sensed a 'but' coming on. "But, of course, mine was bigger."

"Really?" she folded her arms at him as Torkoal continued to jump just out of Magmar's Flamethrower boundaries. "Methinks we're not talking about just the Flamethrower anymore, Mister Blaine." She raised an eyebrow and then, ignoring the light pink of embarrassment that had tinged his cheeks, called out to her pokemon again. "Torkoal, slow down that Magmar with a Sludge Bomb!"

Blaine called out for his Magmar to dodge, but there seemed to be no need to. Torkoal's head lowered and it shot a stream of dark mud at the floor of the field, dousing the entire floor in the slick muck. Torkoal, satisfied, then shot his own arrogant jet over at Magmar, sending just enough to splatter the face of the confused pokemon. Blaine laughed.

"You missed by a lot, my dear!" he called out. "Magmar, Fire Punch that pokemon! Maybe a little knock to his head might help him remember which way you're at!" He laughed at his own joke, and Magmar did too before he ran forward. Both failed to notice the smug look Flannery wore on her face.

Magmar had a fist raised, and bright red flames were beginning to form around it. He continued to run at the turtle pokemon, his face as triumphant as his master's when Flannery called to her pokemon. "Torkoal, inside your shell, quick! Evasive maneuver!" And the pokemon quickly retracted all legs, his head, and even his tail into the shell of his, giving it a little kick to the side. It slid across the floor on the mud.

"Magmar, turn around, quick and get him!" shouted Blaine. The pokemon, his fist still raised, and tried to do an about-turn on the field. Though, this didn't bode well with the slick mud on the floor, and he went crashing to his feet, even sliding a few feet away for good measure.

"Flamethrower, quick, before it can get up!" Flannery commanded. Torkoal popped out of its shell and leaped into the air, opening its mouth a second time to attack.

"Get up!" Blane shouted. Magmar tried, it really did. But it was suddenly engulfed in millions of flames and fell back to the ground, utterly demolished.

"Keep that up, Torkoal!" Flannery encouraged. "Then turn that Flamethrower into an Iron Defense and hurl yourself at the fallen Magmar!"

"That was just a little bitty flame! Show that turtle what a _real_ Flamethrower is like!" Blane called as Torkoal began to hide its extremities into its shell, gaining a bit of a metallic sheen. The Magmar stood and opened its own mouth, attacking back at the other pokemon that was hurling itself towards it.

"Keep going, Torkoal! You're almost there!" she shouted in retaliation. "Hit that Magmar where it hurts!"

But Torkal didn't get the chance. "Skull Bash it!" Blaine commanded. "Knock it right out of the air!" Magmar nodded and stopped his flame spurting, lowering his head and charging at the pokemon hurling at it.

"That won't work! Remember the floor?" Flannery asked. "Magmar can't keep its footing!"

"On the contrary, it can." Blaine called back. "See, that nifty little Flamethrower you attacked with hardened the mud on the floor for a little. As long as Magmar stays on that, he'll be fine."

"Shoot..." she muttered. "I forgot about that..."

"And since this whole floor is built over a boiling volcano, I think it should be dry in no time."

Torkoal was hit in mid-spin by Magmar's cranium and shot halfway across the field, popped out of his shell and hit the floor, sliding on the mud that, as Blaine said, was getting harder and harder.

"Torkoal, time for our secret weapon!" Flannery shouted.

"Fire Blast it!" Blaine shouted. "Now!" Magmar puffed out his chest and opened his beak, shooting out a giant, flaming star-shaped blast at the pokemon. It hit, but Torkoal seemed focused on other things at the moment.

"Come on, hold out just a little longer!" She called to her pokemon, which seemed to be struggling for control of itself with the fire blasting all around it.

"What's the matter? Can't take the heat?" Blane asked as his pokemon continued to attack. "You can't possibly be tired now, we've only just gotten warmed up!"

"Can't take the heat?" she mocked back ad Torkoal prepared itself. "Please, I live in a gym heated by the hot springs of Hoenn!" She flipped her bangs with one hand arrogantly. "The only reason I took a vacation was because the steam was making my skin a bit pruny." She glanced at Torkoal, who now seemed about filled to the brim with energy. "Torkoal, now, use Overheat!"

"Overheat?" Blaine asked, but suddenly found out. The inside of Torkoal's shell began glowing red, and then suddenly Torkoal opened its mouth, in the perfect position to attack Magmar, who had not noticed how close he had put himself compared to the turtle pokemon. Out of its mouth shot glowing orange-yellow flames that entirely engulfed Magmar, who let out a howl Blaine had never heard him use before, in all his years of training.

"Now who's is bigger?" Flannery stuck her tongue out at the man across the field. "Good job, Torkoal! Finish it off with one last Flamethrower!"

Blaine watched in what might have been sheer horror as the turtle pokemon opened his mouth one last time to attack with a final Flamethrower. He lifted one sleeve to wipe off the sweat that was gathering on his forehead.

"Hit it with a Fire Punch, quick!" he yelled. Magmar, who was knelt down on one knee, trying to overcome his fatigue, rose shakily to his feet and managed to lift his arm into the beginnings of a Fire Punch. But that was all he got to do.

With a final blast, Torkoal hit him with an (albeit, considerably weakened) Flamethrower. He skidded back across the floor to rest at Blaine's feet, efficiently KO'd.

"We did it!" Flannery said after a moment's pause to see if the battle really was over. "Torkoal, we really did it!" She ran out onto the field and knelt by her pokemon, wrapping her arms around it and giving it the monster of all hugs. "You really beat that Magmar! I knew you could do it! Even if your speed is much lower than it, you won! I'm so proud of you." She stood up after Torkoal gave her an affectionate, tired nuzzle. "You deserve a good, long rest." she said, and returned it.

Blaine met her halfway across the field, his own Magmar returned to its own pokeball. As the girl got closer, he noticed a few new things about her. From across the field, he couldn't see the sweat-soaked face of hers, nor could he see the streaks the sweat had drawn through the smoke that had stained parts of her skin a grey color. Her smile was tired but proud, and her eyes as bright as ever. So full of life. Upon reaching him, she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, and a few stray hairs in her bangs stuck up at odd angles.

"That was fun." she said. Blaine nodded. "I haven't had that nerve-wracking of a battle in a long time."

"Congratulations. I've got to say, for the fourth gym leader in a line of eight, you battle way out of your league." He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a small, shiny object. "Here, I know you're a gym leader, but you earned it." he took her hand by the wrist and held it open to him, plopping the Volcano Badge into her palm. Flannery looked up at him, her eyes aglow.

"Really? You mean it?" When he nodded, she giggled happily and threw her arms around his neck in a monster hug like she gave to her Torkoal. Cautiously, he hugged her back, but returned it warmly all the same. When she let go, he lowered his glasses so she could see his eyes and looked directly at her.

"So, is it okay now that I don't have blonde hair?"

"It's great!" There was no hesitation from her. "I wouldn't be able to imagine you any other way, now."

Xxxx

Back in the lobby, Becky was just finishing stamping something onto a piece of paper when the door to the Elevator opened and Blaine stepped out, as well as the girl that had bothered her and made her look like the moron earlier. The thick stench of smoke and lava came wafting by, followed by the smell of sweat and something burning. Both of their faces were red and shining, and they were laughing happily about something when they stepped into the lobby. On the girl's shirt was the Volcano badge, pinned there with pride.

She had won?! This little girl from Hoenn, a smaller gym leader status than Blaine, had beaten him?!

"Becky, cancel the rest of the appointments for the day, I'm taking this young woman out for some Cajun food for lunch. Apparently, she enjoys the spicy food as much as I do!"

**A/N: Again, didn't know where to end this.  
Again, this was much too long. **

**Again, I butchered another character's personality. (It was AFTER I was most of the way through did I realize Blaine liked riddles. But I didn't want to try and rewrite it, I liked this draft the way it was.) **

**Also, I forgot how old Blaine looked. In my mind, he looks much younger, I promise. But not too young to butcher his personality. **

**This was also my first attempt at writing an ACTUAL battle, between two trainers. How did it turn out? **

**Also, this is kind of stretching the romance thing, but I think it passes. Leave me alone! D:**


	7. It Ain't Easy Being GREEN

**A/N: I had the HARDEST time coming up with a story for this prompt. Actually, this was the hardest pairing for me in this whole story. (Which is weird, because the other half of my profile that isn't obscure pairings is Contestshipping.) **

**Anyway, credit for this idea goes to Cheetah Goddess, because she (accidentally, mind you,) gave me the idea for this in one of her replies to my review reply. **

**Prompt: Green**

**Pairing: Contestshipping (This one is pretty obvious to everyone, I'm sure.) **

**Warning: They're like, of legal drinking age, so this should be nothing illegal, and I should not get in trouble with it. So there.**

May rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. She was seated on a bar stool, leaning against the bar with her chin in her hand. It was squashing up the right side of her face; not a very attractive look for her. The bartender walked up and stared at the same sight she was staring at, clicking his tongue and shaking his head.

"He's not one to hold his alcohol, is he?" he said. May shook her head. "He's got to be the most entertaining sight I've seen in a long while though at this bar."

May turned her head and glared at him. "Entertaining? This was supposed to be our special evening!" she said. "He took me to a romantic dinner, and we went and saw a movie, and then we decided to go for drinks afterward. But so far, our couple of drinks has turned into his night of drunken escapades."

"I'm sorry to hear that, ma'am." he said, wiping down the glass in his hand with a rag that looked like it did more dirtying than cleaning. "If I'd have known, I'd have tried to stop him, honest."

"You were just doing your job." she said halfheartedly. "It's not your fault."

"An' furthermore," said the recently-drunk Drew, who was swaying slightly on top of a round table with a crowd of onlookers seated around him, "why can't people jus' learn to get along?" he hiccuped. "I mean, love your brother and all that!"

"Amen, bro!" said one of the men standing around those seated. "you tell 'em!"

"And what about Global Warming?" he said, then hiccuped. His eyelids were drooping slightly, and the light, slightly goofy smile Drew usually wore around May was replaced with a grim, almost annoyed smile. "Who's bright idea _-hic-_ was it to just throw all that carb'n dioxide into the air? Go green! Save th' planet and recycle!"

"It's the saddest sight I've ever seen him in for as long as I've known him." May said. The bartender shrugged.

"How long has that been?"

"I've known him since I was ten. You do the math." she replied gloomily. The man's eyebrows disappeared into his brown hair.

"Wow!"

"And then there's th' rights of Pokemon!" Drew said, pointing a finger into the air. "They has feelin's too, ya know! And they do all the battling for us an' help us win contests," he paused to shake his green hair, which was now growing limp as the day came to a close, out of his eyes. "an' what to we do to show our appreciate-shun?" he shook his finger at a cute little girl who _had_ to be underage sitting at his feet. "We don't do anything! Nothin' but make 'em battle some more!" Drew tipped backwards and almost fell over again. But he caught himself and then knelt down to pick up the glass the remainder of his drink was in. "Let's drink to our pokemon!"

"Here here!" shouted the crowd, all raising their glasses to the drunk man, whom none seemed to know was the famous Drew, winner of two Grand Festivals and the most famous of all coordinators. They all drank and Drew raised his now empty glass in the direction of the bartender.

"Hey man, fill 'er up again!"

"I'll admit, even in a drunken stupor, he's still a great speaker." May said, shaking her head. "But don't give him another drink."

"Here, lemme get you some good ol' vodka." said the bartender. At May's appalled look, he gave her a wink and filled a different glass with ice, and then doused it with tap water. May smiled.

"Cheers! To the great old man, that bartender!" Drew said once his glass was given to him. The crowd raised their glasses and cheered with him, and downed the rest of their drinks with Drew. "Always lookin' out for us, that old scoundrel!"

"I'm sorry, I can take him home, if you want, before things get too bad." May said. The man returned to her side on the other side of the counter, and tapped a finger to his chin.

"You might want to. I don't want to kick you out, but when he passes out, it could mean trouble for everyone, and it's best if his caring girlfriend is there to take care of him." When May shot him a warning look, he raised his hands in a symbol of peace. "Hey, not many girls that come through here would have stayed put like you if their boyfriend did that to them."

May sighed. He was probably right, and it was only the first time this had happened, but he was worth a shot anyway. She shook her head, hardly believing she was even doing it anyway, and strode over to the table, pushing her way through the crowd.

"What the world needs is more love, man!" Drew said lazily. "More love! If we didn't have it, the man would totally take us down. Capitalism isn't the way to go!" Drew paused as the crowd went up in cheers again.

"Come on, Drew, it's time to get home." May said, albeit a bit impatiently. "I think you've done enough preachings tonight to last a lifetime."

"Ah! Here I was, jus' goin' on about more love, an' my _girlfriend_ shows up!" Drew knelt down to May's height, crouching on his toes, surprisingly not overbalancing. "May, sweetie cakes, honey muffin!" He opened his arms and pulled her in close to him, nearly smothering her between his crushing hug to her head and his chest. "I love this girl so much!"

"Yeah! You go, girl!" said one man out in the crowd, and his comment was followed by a slue of cheers, all on May's behalf.

"Drew, seriously, it's time to get home." May said, pushing herself out of his grip and helping him down off the table. "You've had quite enough."

"Jus' remember, guys!" Drew shouted back at them as May dragged him by the wrist out of the bar, "All you need is love an' peace an'... an'..." Drew shook his head to clear his slurred thoughts. "An' love! I love every one of you guys!"

"We love you too, man!" shouted one of the guys closest to him.

"Especially you!" Drew shut one eye to aim his pointer at the man who had spoken. "I 'speshully love you!"

"Home, now." May said. And the moment she got him out the door and onto the street, Drew vomited. May had just enough time to jump back to avoid it, but Drew, bent double, groaned.

"Y-you know what'd be funny?" he said, standing back straight, though shaky on his feet. "If my face was all green, like cartoons get when – when they hurl." Drew teetered where he stood. "Ha, then my whole head would be green!"

May ran around behind him to catch him just as he fell, completely passed out. She gritted her teeth and hefted him into a slightly more comfortable position to drag, then began to pull him the four blocks she needed to overcome before she hit the six flights of stairs she had to climb to get him into his apartment.

Once she had finally reached the top, she managed to dig his keys out of his pocket and let herself in, changed him out of his clothes and laid him face-down on his bed, and promptly fell into a deep sleep herself in a chair sitting in his room at the foot of his bed she had dragged in from the living room to keep an eye on him.

Her last thought before sleep claimed her was that this boy was too much trouble, and she wasn't sure why she was putting up with it. But she reminded herself that this was Drew, and she slept with a smile on her face the rest of the night.

Xxxx

"Ugh..." Drew groaned. He was knelt over the porcelain throne in his bathroom, May standing at his side and holding his hair back from his face with both of her hands, which were incredibly warm against his clammy forehead. "May, why did you let me keep drinking like – _hurk_!"

"You had so much in such sort of a time, I didn't have much of a chance to stop you." May said, kneeling down next to him. He groaned and moaned and shook his head slightly after he was done and flushed for the fifth time that morning.

"Don't talk so loud, I have a headache..." May smiled a half-smile and shook her head. Poor guy. Though, it really was his fault. "But, May?" He lifted his head, his face pale and eyes sallow as he looked into hers.

"Yes?" she whispered. Not because this moment was romantic – far from it. Because she was just going to do her best to keep from making his hangover even worse at the moment. She'd give him a talking to later, when he felt better.

Drew hesitated. "How come you're being all nice to me and doing this?" he asked. "Especially after I completely ruined your date last night with my..." he paused and had the decency to look embarrassed. "with my behavior."

"Because," May turned his head with her hand on his chin to face her. "for as many times as you've been a jerk to me, or put me down, or done something bad," Drew's cheeks regained a bit of normal color when he blushed. May smiled and kissed his cheek. "you always do something sweet or cute to make up for it." She kissed his other cheek.

"So..." Drew made a weak smile at her. "So how far am I to being forgiven for this one?"

"You're on your way." She said gently. "Especially with that green comment you made last night."

"Green... comment?" he asked. She giggled.

"You said how you thought it would be cool if people turned green when they got sick, like in cartoons. And then you said your whole head would be green. And then passed out." She giggled at the horrified look on his face.

"I did _what_?!"

"Listen, it's better than the other things you did." she smiled. Drew's eyes widened and his face paled to an unhealthy color. And suddenly, he wrenched his head out of her hands to aim at the toilet again. May, despite his look and condition he was in, giggled lightly again.

"But we'll save that talk for a different date too."

**A/N: For those of you who reviewed my "Her Number 2" story, most of you know how I (in a very, VERY sad attempt at humor, might I add,) added in a part depicting Drew as a hippie. And then Cheetah Goddess made a comment about Drew acting like a hippie when drunk. And thus, my worries about a plot for this prompt were banished! Huzzah and cheers for chapter seven!**


	8. Raising All Kinds of HELL

**A\N: This was originally going to be something darker than my usual, and a lot more emo/angsty at the beginning. And then I realized that I didn't have to take the dark spin on it, because writing something dark, serious, deep, dramatic, or angst-filled is not my forte. DEFINITELY not my forte. But I finished it anyway to see if I could handle it, and I found myself screaming at the screen "DON'T READ THIS, FANFICTION! D:"**

**So, just before I posted it, I pulled it back from the depths of the internet and rewrote it. Same pairing, much lighter and happier.**

**Prompt: Hell  
Pairing: Jupiter/Saturn (Don't know this ship name either. Jovianshipping?)  
Disclaimer: I still own my Commander Neptune design, though his hair has changed since I last wrote him. And as for Commander Venus, I know we all write her this way, but the way she looks is, again, mine. (I think, I haven't read EVERY fic containing a Venus in it,) so don't use them without permission kthx.**

It was complete hell. Chaos, at best, horrific and terrifying at most, and the only way to describe it lightly would be to clasp your hands around your mouth and head for the nearest trash can. Or toilet, if you could make it.

But did they care? Not at all. Did any of them think that just maybe, they could all lose their positions as commanders over this? Nope. Was the mess going to be a bitch to clean up?

Oh yes, it was.

In talking with Saturn, Jupiter realized right then and there just how far her deep, immense hatred for Commander Venus was. A girly-girl to the core, one that gossiped and flirted with every male in the building. The way she twirled her light pink hair around her finger when it wasn't too busy looking like a Gardevoir's head. (All the commanders seemed to have a thing for making their hair look like other pokemon.) The way she always managed to smell like a freakin' flower garden whenever she glided past you, the way her laughter sounded like a baby getting tickled by a puppy! Honestly, what WASN'T there to hate?

So Jupiter took a stand. That plate of spaghetti she wasn't going to eat sat neatly on the tips of her fingers with the acute balance that would shame even a professional waiter. Saturn, both intrigued and horrified at the concept of her doing something so completely against Team Galactic's rules, could only watch as the muscles in her arms coiled like springs. And then it was launched.

One could almost _hear_ the serene music as they watched the green plastic plate of noodles fly through the air. They could hear the magnificent _crash_ of cymbals as the plate hit the face of the picture-perfect slut of a commander. One could _see _the glowing light shining down from above, and a thousand angelic voices belting the hallelujah song as this said commander stood and wiped her face off disgustedly, shouting a stream of swearwords at the thrower.

But what happened next was beyond the control of even Team Galactic. Another plate of food flew through the air, this time launched by none other than Venus herself! Jupiter ducked, and the plate managed to hit Saturn square in the face. And when it slid down, there was, clearly, a very large mound of smushed meatloaf sitting atop his head. And then, Commander Neptune stood up, another plate of the cafeteria's meatloaf sitting on it delicately, and announced to the room, "Food fight!"

Then the fighting began.

Jupiter wanted to mourn the loss of her plate of very tasty spaghetti, which she had made special at home so she wouldn't have to eat the plate of gunk the kitchens liked to call food. But its use had been more fulfilling than it ever would have been eaten, so it was a short farewell. Jupiter laughed as Neptune managed to just dodge his curly-haired head out of the way of a handful of mashed potatoes, a piece of green jell-o jiggling dangerously on the end of his one center forehead curl that eerily resembled a Jigglypuff's.

"Look what you started!" Saturn moaned as the room around them began collecting food in places where food was not meant to be, such as the walls or the floor or the underside of a table. "Cyrus is going to have a hissy fit, and we're all going to get fired because _you_ couldn't just hold in your personal problems about one person!"

"Look, just have fun with it! Cyrus isn't going to be happy, even if you run and tell him yourself like a good little lap doggy. Just pick up some food and go with it!" Jupiter demonstrated, reaching down, (managing to duck a hunk of flying jell-o aimed at her). She grabbed a handful of meatloaf and squashed it down on top of his head, her face nearly busting in half with her snarky smile.

Saturn froze.

All those in the cafeteria froze.

Jupiter still hadn't realized the magnitude of what she had just done, but she was about to find out. Saturn twitched. His face seemed to lack any emotion, save for the one portraying his discomfort and increasing anger. His hair, the deep blue locks resembling Purugly ears, began to ever so slowly wilt and lose their natural buoyancy. And it was about _then_ that Jupiter realized what she had done, when she saw his hand close tightly around his own hot pocket he had heated up to eat, before the chaos and hell ensued.

This would later be renamed 'The Meatloaf Incident.'

They didn't talk about the Meatloaf Incident.

"Dude, you're so in for it." Neptune commented. And then Jupiter ran, fleeing for her life. She forgot about Commander Jupiter, she forgot that she was covered in food from head to foot, and she forgot that heels were not the best thing to be running in. But she ran all the same, stumbling out of the bench seat she was in, then slamming through the double doors that led to the rest of the cafeteria, the one where the Grunts ate, and ignored the stares as she shouted in terror as she ran.

Saturn followed after her, his hot pocket poised above his head like a deadly weapon. And as he ran, it was apparent to all that his usually forever-stiff blue hair was now being blown backward by the wind created from his running. Some gasped, some pointed, some whispered, and some were in pure, unadulterated shock.

But neither of the commanders stopped to give a damn. Jupiter skidded around a corner, and Saturn barreled after her, his face set in determination, hers what would have been described as terror. However, if one dared to look close enough, there was even a hint of enjoyment creeping up as well...

Saturn took a dive and his arms encircled her waist in a perfect football tackle. The two went flying through the air in the same, musical, awe-inspiring scenario as the aforementioned plate of spaghetti. Jupiter couldn't have freed herself if she had had the time. The two hit the floor, and then skidded some ways on account of the food covering them both.

"Let me go!" Jupiter shrieked, oblivious to the stares she and Saturn were attracting as they lay in the hallway. "I didn't mean to, honest! I'll never touch your hair again!"

"Oh, it's too late for apologies." He smirked. She didn't notice until too late, after he had reached up and squeezed the contents of his hot pocket over her head, then proceeding to smear it in for good measure with his free hand. She squealed, a very uncharacteristic quality of hers, and tried to wriggle free of him and his dirty tactics of food fighting.

"Oh, ew ew ewww! It's still warm! And sticky and gooshy! Stop it!" she cried, trying to push herself up with the one arm that was now free, her other now trapped in Saturn's embrace. Grunts around the corner from where they were stopped, turned bright red, and promptly turned heel in the other direction, away from whatever was going on just one corner ahead of them.

"You're the one who made it move!" Saturn retorted. "I should think this is punishment enough, so quit complaining and take it like a girl!"

More Grunts proceeded to follow those that had turned away earlier, these deciding to take the long way to the library now, up and around, away from the hallway that now filled their precious virgin heads with blasphemous thoughts. Even if the long way did detour around Cyrus's office.

Jupiter managed to twist herself around so that she now lay on her back, her head successfully out of the reach of Saturn. Saturn's hand quickly withdrew itself from the smearing, realizing now where it sat, poised perfectly above Jupiter's (quite voluptuous, if he may say so,) chest. She smirked triumphantly and tried to get enough leverage to lift herself off the floor, but failed and flopped back against the cold tile with a thunk.

"Okay, I give up." she panted as she stared at the fluorescent lighting above her head. "You win. I should have never started that food fight in the first place, and I'm sorry for smashing the icky cafeteria meatloaf into your hair."

"Yeah, well, maybe I do need to loosen up a little." he laughed back. He lifted her chin to look down at him, and when their eyes met, it was like a surge of realization hit them both. Saturn coughed and quickly released her waist and stood hurriedly to his feet. Jupiter pursed her lips, a little disappointed that nothing had happened, and accepted his hand to help her to her own feet. But her pulled her in a little closer than was completely necessary after that. Jupiter was to be disappointed no longer, as he leant in a licked a drop of the jell-o off the tip of her nose. She turned redder than an angry Voltorb.

"What was that for?" Somehow, she managed to keep her voice strong. He shrugged.

"Loosening up a little. I think we ought to go get cleaned up before the boss sees us all like this." he said. "And you'll definitely going to be needing to wash that hair of yours. My hand seems to know it that area well enough, I could help you with that."

"Why would I just wash my hair? I have to get the rest of me clean, don't I?" she asked, beginning her ascent to the Commander's quarters. Saturn followed close behind.

"Like I said, I could help you if you want." he repeated. She felt his hand slowly snake its way around hers.

"Don't loosen up too much." she nudged him with her elbow. "But I just might like to see what that hair of yours looks like relaxed, _without_ all the food on it."

"There's only one way to find out." he said, and then the pair of them disappeared into a warp panel.

Hell it may have been, and hell it would be when Cyrus got wind of it. But who said good things only happened to those who behaved?

**A/N: I AM CALLING CREATIVE LICENSE. Team Galactic totally does not act like stiff-necked followers on their own time, they are humans that like to have fun too. So this is not out of character for any of them, this is something that happens every day. Probably.  
**

**Maybe this was not so much romance as this was lusty. Argh, I **_**still**_** find myself reading this going "NOOOO DON'T READ IT! D:" **

**But, I had to post something. Seriously though, don't read it.**


	9. The IDIOSYNCRASY of my Best Friend

**A/N: Don't expect this to be too good, I wrote it while babysitting for these kids while their parents were going to be gone until, like, two in the morning. Then I came up with an idea and began to write it. **

**And now it's letter I for the alphabet challenge.**

**Prompt: Idiocrasy  
****Pairing: Clingyshipping (Damion/Lucas)  
****Warning: This is blatant yaoi. Please be mature and handle it like a big boy or girl.**

"Lucas!" a voice shouted out. Said boy looked up from the book he was reading and out the window. "Lucas come here _now_!"

He sat straight up on his bed. It was Damion! He sounded like he was in trouble! "Where are you?" he yelled back, out the open window.

"In my backyard! Hurry, Lucas!" Damion shouted again. Lucas slammed his book shut and raced down the stairs, ignoring the protests of his mother. Damion was in trouble! It was up to him to save him! What had he gotten himself into this time? Maybe if his best friend wasn't so reckless and actually watched where he was going for a change…

Lucas bolted out the front door and had to hold on to the corner of his house with one hand as he turned the corner sharply, on one foot no less. He just managed to keep his balance. His heart was racing. Was he hurt? Was Team Galactic back? Had one of his pokemon turned on him? There were endless possibilities, none of them looking all too promising.

Lucas ran down the road. He was panting, his legs were beginning to feel like jelly, and his head was pounding out a steady rhythm to his sneakers slapping the sidewalk. There had been little interaction between the two since Lucas had beaten the Pokemon League, but what had been was enough for the moment. Now that they both had pokemon for means of transportation, there was much less meeting up to go on adventures, or getting together for old buddy sleepovers, since the other was almost always busy when the other had downtime, or vice-versa. But when one was in trouble, it was never too much to ask of the other to come rescue them.

But Damion wasn't in trouble…

Lucas rounded the corner of Damion's house and leaped over the short picket fence, supporting himself with one hand, and froze when his shoes hit the grass. Damion was standing in the middle of his backyard with a bright green hula-hoop around his waist, spinning it with his hips in time to a rhythm that Lucas couldn't hear. Damion smiled that wide grin of his and gestured for Lucas to come closer.

"Look! Look at this!" he said, then swung his hips a little bit faster. Lucas watched the hoop climb higher up his waist to around his chest, and then all the way up around his neck. Now it was the way he bobbed his head that was getting to him, not the swaying hips…

And then suddenly, the hoop started back down. Around his shoulders, until it was back to his chest, and then his waist again. Lucas quickly averted his eyes again, to keep his face from flushing. It was only a hula-hoop, for Arceus's sake! So why was it getting him all worked up..?

But he couldn't not look forever. The hula hoop was around Damion's knees now, and he was keeping it there perfectly, his thin legs pushed together and swirling in perfect time with the hoop. And suddenly, the hoop went back up again and was caught by Damion, who stopped it short with his hands and then threw them into the air triumphantly, the lime green hoop still in his left hand.

"So, whaddaya think?" he asked. Lucas raised an eyebrow at his best friend. "That was cool, right?"

"How long did it take you to get that to work?" he asked. Damion shrugged.

"I don't know, a couple months. You remember how good I was at The Hoop when we were little, right?" he asked. Lucas remembered full well. Damion was always better than Lucas at The Hoop, as they referred to it, thinking they were cool back in the day. Lucas, however, didn't answer, only stomped over and grabbed the hoop out of Damion's hand, his eyebrows knit together.

"Damion, you idiot, I thought you were hurt or something, the way you kept screaming my name like that! Don't do that ever again!" His eyes were hard, but Damion's had changed from super excited to somewhat apologetic.

"But, I had been hula-hooping for over twenty minutes and didn't want to break the record!" he said with a little bit of a pout. Then, his face changed abruptly for a moment. "Besides, I thought you _liked it_ when I scream your name like that." Lucas turned red for a moment at that, then shook his head.

"Oh yeah, I forgot." His voice was flat, sarcastic. Damion laughed and stole the hoop out of his best friend's hand, then swooped it over them both and pulled Lucas closer to him, the hoop providing no chance for escape as it encircled them both at the waist. Lucas's face began shading red again.

"Okay, I'm sorry I got your panties in a twist." he said. "I can kiss it better for you, if you want."

"Umm.." Lucas felt the heat rising in his face. Damion was always known to be a bit personal, but some things even _he_ wouldn't say just like that…

"Okay!" He answered his own question brightly. Before Lucas could stop him, the blonde-headed kid leant in and sufficiently silenced Lucas with one well-placed kiss on the lips. Lucas's head buzzed with noise, such as the static that appears on TV channels that exist for no reason other than to continue the number line going as the channels get bigger. Damion was kissing him. His best friend, the master of The Hoop, the one who came _thisclose_ to beating Lucas when he entered the League challenge, was kissing him.

And just like that, is was over. He pulled away, almost as if nothing had happened. In fact, he even lifted the hoop out from around Lucas and began again, as normal as could be. Lucas watched him, knowing full well he was transfixed to the rotating hips of his best friend, and knowing full well that Damion wouldn't notice him staring anyway.

Lucas couldn't figure out which was weirder.

The fact that Damion liked to hula-hoop, or the fact that his best friend had just kissed him full on the mouth and seemed to feel no shame.

Well, Lucas used to love and be a pro at The Hoop when he was younger, so he might as well comply with the latter as well.

**A/N: Get it? The hula-hoop isn't the idiosyncrasy here…**

**Argh. I should probably redo this so it makes more sense. Maybe make it all metaphorical and stuff. **


	10. JUMBLE Code

**A/N: The more I look at this couple, the more I wrap my mind around the idea of how completely adorable it is. And there's not even that much pedophilism in it as you might think, because Roxanne's totally an adult, legally! And while Lucian's assumed age difference with Aaron is completely great, it could get me in trouble with people who might think I support that kind of thing.**

**I DON'T. R-A-P-E GET YOUR PENIS OUT OF ME and all that stuff.**

**Prompt: Jumbled  
****Pairing: Bibliophileshipping (Roxanne/Lucian)  
Warning: There will be fluff. The fluffy fluff. The kind of fluff that's... fluffy. (lolSpongebob)**

She turned a page in her textbook and stared at a glossy picture of a giant quartz crystal veined with gold. She sighed. Rocks were totally her thing, she loved them. Roxanne had been told off many a time by her mother as a little girl for ripping holes in her pinkish-red tights from climbing around on the beach and small cliff to the north of Rustburo.

But she wasn't in Rustburo at the moment. She had taken a break from her gym to check out the world's largest library – in Canalave city! She was positively thrilled. Just the thought of burying her nose into book after book for an entire week made her spine erupt in tingles. The only thing Roxanne loved more than rocks were books.

She heaved another sigh as she finished the book and set it on top of the pile of them around her, which was progressively getting larger as the day wore on. Books on plants, animals, and pokemon, books she loved as a child, picture books, photography books, myth books and bibliographies, fantasies and mysteries and science fictions and poem books were slowly starting to build a wall around her. She was about to grab another book off the pile of unread ones when she happened to glance up, and her heart stopped then and there.

A man stood before her, examining the little map of the library and its floors. It was kind of akin to a mall map, where you found the genre you wanted and took to that floor of the building. Roxanne had made her way through all the floors except the top, saving it for last, because one never knew what they would find in the miscellaneous section.

But this man... oh boy, Roxanne could think of nothing but the heartthrobs in the romances she had read over the course of her last three days, ranging from teenage novels to deep, thought provoking books to mature housewife porn-to-word books. As cliché as it sounded, he was the exact man of her dreams.

He was tall and thin, from what she saw. His hair was a violet purple color, one that matched his eyes and perfectly complimented his glasses, which had a slight purple tint to the ovular lenses as well. His hair was also wavy and shoulder-length, but it didn't look messy, nor did it look like he was trying this style to fit in. It looked suave and sexy and sophisticated.

He also wore a maroon suit with a black shirt underneath. It was crisp and clean and pressed neatly, to look all the more presentable. A pair of black leather shoes completed the ensemble on his feet, and he walked straight and tall, with a purpose, but did not seem at all like he was trying to upstage anybody. He just seemed very sure of himself. And comfortable with who he was and where he was. He sent Roxanne's heart aflutter before he even glanced at her!

Maybe it was just Roxanne's teenage hormones that were still in effect, even at nineteen, that caused her to think this way, but she couldn't see a flaw on this man. He was tall, dark, and handsome, he dressed well, and he was in a library. Of his own free will, it looked like! She loved the long, striding, confident steps he took. She loved the way he ran one long finger down the library map, and she loved the way it stopped on a certain level. She loved the way he nodded to himself, almost as if he were confirming a decision, and she loved the way he took the stairs instead of the elevator on his way to his decided floor.

Roxanne wanted more. Her eyes needed to see more of this mysterious man. As soon as he disappeared around the stairs, she pushed out of her chair and followed quickly but quietly, making sure to peek carefully around each corner before following, to make sure he wouldn't notice her. Up and up he went, and Roxanne followed in hot pursuit wondering if she ought to work up the courage to talk to this mysterious man or not and completely forgetting about her stack of books waiting down on the third floor for her.

Finally, when he could go no further, the man stopped on the top floor and glanced around before heading off to the left. Roxanne waited a good amount of time before coming up the stairs herself, as natural as could be, to keep from looking suspicious. Much to her surprise, the floor in front of her was awake with bright, happy colors in mats, toys, book covers, and even a little whiteboard over on one wall with little magnet words on it to make sentences. It was the place where parents could drop off their infants and small children if they were going to be in the library for a long time, in the care of a volunteer babysitter. And , of course, there was the small maze of bookshelves that held the miscellaneous books, as advertised on the sign.

The man with the suit was heading over into the books, towards a big shelf labeled 'Optical Illusions'. Roxanne followed slowly, meandering, as if she was just there to do some light browsing and not stalking a man she'd never talked to through the library. But she came up to the shelf behind him and pulled a random book off the shelf, one full of crosswords. But she wasn't focusing on it at all; she was peeking over the tops of the books on the shelf at the man behind it. He was holding one book in his hand, the kind that she used to look at when she was little. It had pages that looked like nothing but colored dots or dashes, but when you looked at it just right, you could make out a 3-D shape of something embedded in it. He'd pick one out, skim through it, and then put it back. She kept a close eye on him, just peeking out over the top of her book, so that only her eyes up would be visible to him.

Finally, he pulled out one and kept it with him, but it wasn't an optical illusion book, it was one with a bunch of word jumbles in it. She watched him pull a pencil out of his pocket and search for an appropriate puzzle, then tucked the soft paper cover around so he could hold it in one hand and began searching for a word. Roxanne watched closely. He was so quiet, she could hardly hear him breathing in the silence of the library. But then, her own heart was beating so hard in her own ears that it was hard to hear anything like that at all.

He circled a word and stretched his arm out wide, to stretch out a crick in his elbow. Roxane looked at the word.

_Following_.

Her heart skipped a beat then at that. And then he erased the light lines and circled two more letters.

_M-E._

_Following me?_

She felt her face heat up like a hot car in the middle of a July day that never did so unless you left something valuable in there that shouldn't have been, like a gameboy or a box of crayons or a VHS tape that even warned you on the label not to leave in hot places but you did anyway because it never did anything before. How had he known she had been following him? She thought she had been very quiet and sneaky! But the man then erased the two circles and didn't do anything else. Roxanne, once she could regain her composure, decided to answer him. She cracked the spine on her crossword book and ran her finger down the list of clues.

"Four letter word for adorable?" she asked softly aloud, then checked the next clue. "And seven letters for the name of someone you should never take candy from..." she pretended to ponder the clues she had just made up herself. Then, very proud of herself, she silenced herself and looked back over her shoulder at the man on the other side of the shelf as her, to check for a response. He was just circling the last letter as she was walking away.

_Name?_

Roxanne passed by the small whiteboard with magnetic letters on it and smirked to herself. She rearranged the letters accordingly to fit her name, and then a question for him, and then left down another isle of books, this one full of fun facts books, some for kids, others for adults on the higher shelves so the kids who shouldn't be reading them couldn't reach.

_Roxanne. You?_

She heard his soft footsteps on the carpet floor approaching, and she went deeper into the isle, grabbing a fact book for kids off the shelves and paging through it. She saw him stop at the whiteboard out of the corner of her eye and lean over to rearrange the letters himself, the word search still in his hand. Then he stood up, nodded in satisfaction at it, and opened the book once more to 'read' through it. Roxanne made her way past him as if they were complete strangers and glanced at the whiteboard on her way past.

_Lucian. From Sinnoh?_

She smiled and flipped through some more pages in her trivia book, then found what she wanted and walked, once again, through the isle that ran behind the shelf Lucian was in front of. She stopped, leaned against the shelf, and flipped a few pages before reading the fun fact on the page before her, aloud, but quietly so he would hear, as if there were other people on the deserted floor to hear anything between them anyway...

"Did you know... Hoenn has the greatest amount of water included as part of its territory than any other region?" she read aloud, then paused smirked a little, adding a second fact herself. "And that its first gym leader is obviously the greatest person in any of the four regions?" She shook her head a little. "I think I knew that little fact..."

"The Sinnoh Elite Four, a Stupid Trainer's Guide to Beating Them." read Lucian in response. "The books they come up with these days..."

His voice was like soft velvet. It was deep and strong, quiet and sophisticated. She shuddered at the thought of it. Her mind then made the connection, though, and she blanched. Elite Four?! He was out of her league! He was so much more advanced than she was, so much more talented and smart and a much better trainer, she already knew. It was a one in a million chance she'd ever have met a different gym leader in the first place, but an Elite Four member? She suddenly felt very inferior. She shouldn't be talking to this man, she shouldn't have even looked his way. She felt her pale face flush and she put her book back quickly. She'd go back to her books and stay there, because that's what she came there to do.

She lowered her head and quickly started for the stairs, her steps becoming brisk and quick. Upon passing Lucian, she uttered a small "Sorry for bothering you" to him before going down the stairs. She didn't look back, but imagined him with a relieved look on his face at her words. She began to tear up and her steps became quicker. When she made it down the flights of stairs, she quickly made it back to her chair and hid once again behind her books, trying to forget about Lucian and her little blunder.

A tear fell out of her eye onto the pages of the book she had opened, one about a man traveling with his Aipom, an award-winner she had been advised to check out by Wattson, who was like a grandfather to her. She couldn't focus on that, though. Most of her was wondering why she was crying over a man she hadn't actually talked to! Why was she getting so worked up over him? Yet the tears wouldn't stop, and her heart continued to squeeze itself into a little lump of embarrassment and sadness and hopelessness.

"Excuse me," said a voice from the other side of her stack of books, "but, sorry for what?"

Her crunching heart stopped. Literally, the entire world froze, but she didn't dare look up at that velvety smooth voice. She wasn't sure if she could handle it without breaking out into a fresh fountain of tears.

"Bothering you and being a bit of a stalker when I followed you like that." she said quietly, barely managing to make her voice stable. "I should have stuck to my books."

"I'm glad you didn't." Lucian said to her. She turned red. He was only saying that to make her feel better. "It's not every day you get to converse with someone in word puzzles and magnetic letters and book facts and titles."

Roxanne looked sharply up at him. Lucian, this man of all men, was staring down at her with a kind, warm smile, his eyes bright and his hair hanging around his face in such a way that reminded her of one of those fairy tale knights. He was being completely honest with her. She gulped a little and felt her red face flush even more. She didn't take her eyes off of him once, even when she saw, out of the corner of her eye, an opened book being pushed towards her.

"Look that over for me, would you?" he said softly. "Then think it over and come find me."

She still didn't take her eyes off him as he walked away and mingled among the other bookshelves. Finally, once he was out of sight, she got a hold of herself and looked down at the book he had requested she look at.

It was one of those magic picture books. She looked at it with a cocked head, then pulled it close to her and began looking at the image for the hidden one within the jumble of dots and dashes to find what she was supposed to see.

A good three minutes passed, and still Roxanne continued to stare, forgetting about the books stacked around her, forgetting she wanted to get through them before she had to head back to Rustburo. And suddenly, something in her mind clicked into place and she saw it.

It was a picture of two little people, a boy and a girl, holding hands, with a small heart between them. The more she stared, the more her brain tried to comprehend it until, finally, it told her to stand up with a large smile on her face and set off to find Lucian.

**A/N: I didn't have a cool ending line to go out with a bang with. I'm losing my touch. Also, this idea was cuter in my head.**

**If you haven't already and you're a regular to this story, go participate in my poll. It's essential to this story! I just can't tell you when. It's up to you guys to decide whether I post a stupid chapter none of you will get or not. **

**If you voted once, don't do it again and throw off the numbers, please! That's all I have to say about this one.**


	11. Ghosts are Bad KARMA

**A/N: This has quite a bit of creative license thrown into it, because I had to come up with something. So Morty grew up in Hoenn, like all the rest of the popular gym leaders. And then he moved to Johto because of his new job or something. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!**

**Falkner and Morty aren't friends in this one like they are in the anime. Just a heads up.**

**Prompt: Karma  
Pairing: Morty/Phoebe (Ghoulshipping, I believe this is called.)  
Warning: Because there was some confusion on this kind of thing in a previous chapter, I'm warning you. Morty and Phoebe are teenagers here, so that's your heads up.**

Morty looked at the haze of clouds above his head. He couldn't see the sky, nor could he see the actual ground if he looked over the edge of the summit. He was laying on his back at the top of Mt. Pyre, watching the clouds go by, and thinking to himself about that day, over school. He often went up there to clear his mind, because so few people ever came to the top, if they could make it, and even fewer would even notice him in the mist like he was.

He wasn't the most popular kid ever, In fact, Morty liked to keep to himself, for the most part. People were loud and noisy and boisterous, and he preferred the calm, the quiet, and the alone-ness. However, he would stand up and face it in an instant if there was something worth voicing his opinion for. Today, there had been a couple of students picking on one of the younger kids, Bugsy, who was in Gym Leader school to be a trainer of Bug pokemon.

Falkner and his girlfriend, Whitney, were doing the bullying that day. Falkner was the most popular boy in school, and Whitney the girl. Poor Bugsy had been pushed over onto the grass, and had been told that he was now one step closer to being just like one of his precious favored pokemon. Everyone eating lunch at the benches around them turned away, not wanting to get caught up in what was happening. If one kept to themselves while Falkner was picking on another kid, they were still on his good side.

But Morty had stood roughly out of his bench, nearly tipping it over in the process. He had walked over and placed himself between Bugsy and Falkner with finality, his hands in his pockets and his blonde hair covering his face. Falkner had demanded to know what he was doing, and his response was being told to leave the poor kid alone, he wasn't doing anything. His head had raised, and he was glaring at Falkner from under his headband. Not just a glare, but the kind that literally made _Terminator_ seem like a cheese puff in comparison. Falkner got his face very close to Morty's at that, and he asked him what his deal was, then had flattened his palms against Morty's chest and shoved him down into the spot Bugsy had just scurried away from. A crowd of students began gathering around them when Morty hit the ground.

His face was still dark and his teeth still gritted, his glare still on full force. Falkner had put his hands on his hips and laughed, Whitney giggling behind him. He looked Morty right in the face and held up a fist.

"You see this?" he had said, obviously putting on a bit of a show for the crowd watching. "This is going to connect with your face soon." he then put his fist down and bent at the waist to get his face closer to Morty, who looked about to jump to his feet. "Do you have any idea why nobody likes you? Why you're such an outcast?" he asked then, making Morty stop in his tracks. "Because you're full of bad karma."

Morty had looked at him, his glare replaced by a mildly hurt look, and Falkner knew he had struck a nerve. "Yeah, I said bad karma. You and your ghost pokemon." Falkner stood back up straight and Whitney backed into the crowd, knowing the fight would start soon. "Nobody in their right mind picks ghost pokemon. Haven't you heard? They're bad luck! Only trainers who want to fail pick them!"

The crowd that had circled around them was thick now, and was watching Falkner with interest. A few more words were exchanged, Morty retaliated, and then Falkner struck.

Morty touched a light hand to his cheek just thinking about it. It had a large scrape going across it, and was tender to the touch. Aside from his various other scrapes and bruises, the one that hurt the most was his giant shiner. His fingers barely grazed his eye before he pulled it away in pain. But aside from all that, his pride was the thing that took the greatest blow.

He had been lying there, trying to fight his way out from under Falkner and his swinging fists when out of the corner of his eye, he saw the only person who's opinion ever mattered to him. Phoebe, tanned skin and all, stood in horror and watched the scene before her before running off through the crowd. Morty had felt a fire alight anew in him and he rolled over on top of Falkner, swinging his own fists at the boy. Falkner just made him look like a fool to Phoebe. Even if he hadn't really had an actual conversation with her before...

"Mister Matsuba! Get off of Hayato immediately!" a sharp voice had said, making all the students in the circle crank their heads around quickly then disperse. The teacher was standing there, Phoebe at his side, and looking even more horrified than she had before. Whitney stood back and watched with a smug look on her face.

"Sir, Morty attacked Falkner!" Whitney said immediately. "Poor Falkner never had a chance! Morty just snapped and probably thought we were picking on Bugsy; he had fallen down and Falkner was offering a hand to help him up." she said. Phoebe began to protest, but the teacher silenced her.

"Miss Fuyō, it does not do well to have lies become us. Next time, get the whole story before you come running." he said. "Boys, go to the nurse and get cleaned up. Morty, go home and don't come back until you can learn to keep your fists to yourself."

"Bad karma." Falkner muttered as Morty turned to leave. "See what I mean? You even got Phoebe caught up in it too." And on that note he left, Whitney walking him to the school and cooing at him like he was the victim there.

Morty scowled at the thought. Maybe Falkner... was right about the karma thing. Maybe picking ghosts as his specialty wasn't such a good idea after all. Maybe it _was_ bringing him back luck. He never had the voice to speak up unless it would get him in trouble, and in defending himself he got in trouble, dragging Phoebe along with him. Maybe what Falkner said was true.

He heard rustling behind him, like footsteps approaching, but he didn't make a sound. He was not in the mood to talk to anyone at the moment, and if he just stayed how he was, he'd be passed, unnoticed. But the footsteps got closer, and he began to get a bit jumpy. What if Falkner had found his way up and was coming back to take another shot at him? But Falkner didn't have the ghost pokemon he needed to maneuver through the small mountain's insides to the top. Besides, how would he have known Morty was even there?

"Are you sure he's here?" said a girl voice to seemingly nobody in particular. "I don't see anything. Maybe you made a bit of a mistake and you found someone who isn't Morty..."

"Dusk!"

"Okay, okay, maybe you're right. I still don't think we're going to find him in this fog..." she said again. Morty's heart stopped for a moment. What was Phoebe, of all people, doing on Mt. Pyre? And what was she doing looking for him, besides?

"Duskull, dusk!" said her pokemon. Morty leaped to his feet just before Phoebe's foot landed on his face. She gave a little scream and jumped back at his sudden appearance, and his left knee buckled under his sudden weight. She reached out just in time to grab him before he fell, supporting his weight on her as she lowered him to the ground.

"You're right, you did find him." she consoled the pokemon floating by her head. "Now, I have some business to take care of, so you go run along and play." She waved a hand by the pokemon with a face like a skull, with a floating red orb behind his face that could be seen though his eye sockets. He zipped off happily, leaving a very red Morty and a concerned Phoebe behind. He wouldn't look her in the face.

Morty had had a thing for Phoebe for years, since she entered Gym Leader Academy the year after him. She was shorter than him, with beautiful blue eyes and tanned skin, and wore floral-print clothes like an island native. The only exception were the two giant pink flowers pinned to either side of her short brown hair, which never seemed to match anything she wore. Today her skirt tied around her waist and her shirt was just a small tube top, in light blue.

She and Morty almost never talked, because he was so shy and quiet and she was very loud and outgoing, and almost always surrounded by a group of her equally, if not louder girlfriends. He'd watch her from a distance, wishing he had the courage to talk to her, or wishing he was one of those boy friends that walked with her to class sometimes. But he stayed back, quiet and shy, uncomplaining, dreaming up scenarios in which he'd utterly sweep her off her feet with some smooth comment, or she'd suddenly profess her love for him and he'd do the same or something. Only, now that he had her, and even though they were alone together, he could think of nothing to say.

"P-phoebe, what are you doing here?" he managed to stutter out. She put a hand on his shoulder gently, making sure he wasn't too bruised up there, and tried to look at him.

"Falkner and Whitney." she said finally. "What they did wasn't fair." A light breeze picked up and wafted through the fog around them. "I saw the whole thing, but I didn't have enough time to explain Whitney's lie to the teacher. I'm sorry I made things worse."

"You... you saw the whole thing?" he asked. "Even from where I told them to stop picking on Bugsy?"

"Yep. That's what caught my attention in the first place, since you're usually so quiet." she said. He looked up and they locked eyed for a moment before he broke the contact again. "But more importantly, I came up here to check on you. You took a heavy beating there." She touched a finger to his split lip gently. "I brought band-aids and stuff, just in case."

"How did you find me, anyway?" he asked, trying to avoid the discussion of his whimpy injuries. "I thought only trainers with ghost pokemon could make it to the top?"

"I had my Duskull track you down." she said. "They have a special talent for tracking the aura of a person. I had him follow yours." She sat back on her hands and smiled, crossing her legs in the grass beneath her. "Besides, my grandparents are the protectors of the orbs here! I'd know how to get up here with my eyes closed, even without pokemon!" Her grin was enormous. "I grew up here, you know!"

"...Really?" he asked. "I come up here when I need to calm down." he said. "It's always foggy and quiet, and the pokemon leave me alone when I want them to. They just seem to know, you know?" he asked. Somehow, conversation was coming easier now. He was relaxing his sore body. She was friendly and they had something to talk about! He wasn't sitting in a shy stupor and she in an awkward silence.

"I know. Ghost pokemon are much more in tune with the emotions of people because they were once living and know what it's like. They can sense things other pokemon just can't. Besides, they also connect better though a trainer willing to cooperate through them, like you, who picked them as your specialty."

"How do you know all this?" he asked her. "I know you've been coming here all your life, but all this knowledge about ghosts and stuff..."

"What, you think this Duskull isn't mine? He and I have been together forever!" When her pokemon came at the sound of his name, she snatched him out of the air and squeezed him tightly in a hug. The pokemon seemed to give a little purr and hugged her back with his stubby little arms. She let him go and he floated there by her head after that. "I'm like you. When it comes time to pick my specialty pokemon next year, I'm picking ghost, hands-down."

"Really?" He perked up at this. "But, aren't you worried about, you know, the bad karma?"

"Bad karma?" She waved a hand posh-style at him impatiently. "That was just something Falkner thought of to get you riled up! Karma doesn't exist, and certainly not through pokemon as gorgeous as our little ghosties!" Duskull cooed again and circled her head happily at this, and she giggled. "Come on, let's go back down and get you properly fixed up so you can be in top shape for school tomorrow."

Morty took her hand once she stood and used it to help pull himself to his feet. She led him back down the steps and just as they were about to enter the inside of the mountain, he looked down at her free hand swinging at her side.

He wanted to. She had come up here to see him, to check and see if he was alright, and that must have meant that he held some standard in her book. His face shone with red at the thought, but he took a deep breath and reached out, securing her hand in his. She froze for a moment and glanced at it, then back up at him. He wore a blush nearly identical to hers.

"Well, if there is such a thing as bad karma," he said, struggling to keep his voice even, "maybe both of us can put our bad karmas together to negate it and turn it positive."

"I think I like that idea." she said, her blush turning down and a smile blossoming up in its place. She gave his hand a squeeze. "I like that idea much more."

**A/N: I'm ashamed to put my name on this chapter. I'm going to rewrite it soon, after a few more updates, because I don't like it at all. It's been through four drafts, this is the fifth, and I'm still not happy. But eh, if you like it, you like it. **

**Again, the poll is there for you guys who are becoming regulars, it impacts this story, so vote please!**

**Also, if you spot any typos, let me know! I've checked through it a lot, but I know I miss something, since I almost always do...**


	12. The Difference Between LUST and Fanboys

**A/N: I was originally very glad that one of the prompts was Lust, because, as terrible as it sounds, I've always wanted to write a good, almost-mature-rating-but-not-really kind of story, but I'm a writing prude and haven't, and the prompt would give me an excuse to. But then I was like "Wait, I could do something better with this!" and I ended up NOT doing that, but this instead. It's a bit saddening, but I think it's better, in the long run. **

**I'm still sad about it, though. **

**Prompt: Lust**

**Pairing: Flannery/Gary (Firedogshipping)**

**Warning: This is a chapter about lust. Do I really need to say it for you?**

First of all, Flannery, as a girl, was used to guys following her around like lovesick puppy Poochyenas, but this was all throughout high school. Secondly, as a gym leader, she was getting used to the idea of being admired and respected by little kids and trainers and the people in her town. Finally, as she was growing out of teenager-dom, she was gradually getting used to the concept of controlling her emotions, and she took great pride in that.

But one thing she never liked were fanboys. The skinny jerks, the greasy, pimply nerds, and the obsessive stalkers. She never liked any of them, especially when none of them had the guts to battle her, just stare from afar. Or, up close, for that matter. She didn't like the way they would drool when they saw her or get into fights with other boys who even so much as glanced at her without their permission, as if they owned her like a stuffed toy. And she especially didn't like them when they came in the horny variety. Pervy boys were just not attractive, end of story.

Unfortunately, when they weren't following her around or lusting after her, they were telling everyone how great it was to be a fire trainer and were wishing they could be just like her in that respect. They wished their girlfriends were as 'elegant and graceful in the face of reckless destruction' as she was, if they even had girlfriends at all. If she had any need for a car, she was sure they would all want their girl (or any girl, for that matter,) to drive the exact one she had, because then they would be that one step closer to being just like Flannery.

She didn't leave her gym much anymore. She'd make one beeline to the gym in the very early morning to avoid them, and one beeline home in the afternoon without making any stops. On Sundays when the gym was closed and everyone was at church, or still asleep, she would make a quick run to the supermarket to stock up on food for the rest of the week. Other than that, she lived in her gym in the mornings and her home at nights, with the occasional trip to the hot springs around midnight to soothe her particularly antsy nerves.

Gradually, this began to work. If they wanted to see her they would have to challenge her gym, which usually scared them off. If they were willing to wait for hours on end daily to just catch a glimpse of her, (which they usually weren't,) then they might see a flash of her bright red hair under a disguise, but that was it. Slowly they dispersed from the town, finding another girl to pine after in a different city, like Fortree. Flannery wasn't too sympathetic for Winona, because she trained birds and could fly away easily.

It was Sunday now, the slowest day of the week for Flannery. Early in the morning, just after the sun had risen, she peeked her head out of the house. It looked left, and it glanced right, and, for good measure, it even peeked behind the front bushes of her house to check for any creepers hiding there to jump her when she came out.

Then the door opened a little more and the shoulder joined the head, and then a hand, resting itself on the outside doorknob and twisting it a few times, checking it to make sure it was locked from the outside, and then the entire right side of Flannery's body could be seen emerging from her front door.

Nobody was outside. She checked the sidewalks and the town's main drag, but there was not a soul in sight. She took a deep breath and stood fully on the porch, waiting for someone to pop out from behind a rock or fall out of a tree. Because of this paranoia, she kept the door open a crack for an easy escape inside before confirming her safety and continuing on her way, shutting the door behind her. But just in case, she also locked the other three locks on it. She wasn't about to throw caution to the wind with this one.

Hands deep in her pockets, she strolled down the small dirt road to the grocery store at the end of it. Lavaridge wasn't a big down, and it was only accessible via the climb down from Mt. Chimney. Everything could be heated from the veins of lava that ran deep beneath the town, and while Mt. Chimney smoked and occasionally blew ash into the wind that sometimes fell, it never erupted, and their little town was safe. She loved the heat, and therefore loved the town with all her heart, despite its perils of stalker-esque fanboys.

Maybe fifteen steps away from the doors to the grocery store, she heard a voice ring out behind her. "Hey, you, do you have a moment? I'm looking for the gym!" Flannery stopped in mid step, half her mind screaming at her to run from the definite male voice, and the other half contemplating on just answering because that would be the nice thing to do. Instead, the boy caught up to her and ran around to stand in front of her, panting slightly. She just looked at him, one hand on her hip, which stuck out as she stood, waiting for him to catch his breath and explain who he was and why he was looking for the leader.

He was tall, taller than her, with almost tanned skin and very dark brown, almost black eyes. His hair was a coppery-brown, spiked up in almost every direction, and shone much too magnificently in the sun when it hit it at the angle it did. His shirt was a plain black one with a collar, and he even wore a necklace that looked almost like a grey teardrop hanging from a simple black cord. He straightened up and she raised one eyebrow, prompting an answer.

"Sorry about that, I wanted to catch you before you ran into the building and I lost you." he explained.

"Understandable." she answered. What else was she going to say? Now that he had managed to catch his breath, he looked very handsome standing there, a small trace of a smirk on his face.

"So, pretty lady, may I ask you where the gym is?" His eyes scanned her from the top to the bottom and she stopped her hand in mid-raise to shake his, then dropped it, a shadow crossing deftly over her face.

"That is none of your business. It was nice meeting you, goodbye." she said, circling around him and cutting him off. Who did he think he was, just hitting on her so normally, as if he did that kind of thing all the time? As if he were Rayquaza's gift to the world! She shoved the doors open and stalked inside, but the doors didn't swing shut like they usually did, they hesitated for a moment and then shut.

"Hey, now, that isn't very nice!" the guy said, following her in. She grabbed a basket and didn't look back at him, instead disappearing down an empty isle. He followed, all the while protesting. "You know, you really shouldn't just walk off like that, or you might give a guy the idea that you're ignoring him."

"No, really?" she replied, tossing a case of ramen noodles into her basket, followed by some insta-bake rolls. She wasn't quite sure why she had such a fondness for them, seeing as it was pre-made dough and all, but it was pretty tasty, like a burger. A tasty burger.

"Come on, this whole 'hatred for the random stranger' thing is certainly not very becoming to your beauty, you know." said the boy. "And I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I'm Gary Oak, nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand, but Flannery would have none of it.

"You really ought to rethink yourself. Do you honestly think you're so high-and-mighty enough that you believe it's okay to hit on a girl whose name you don't know right off the bat? Yes, you're good-looking, but it gives you no excuse–"

"You think I'm good-looking?" He ran a hand through his hair, and she could simply see the smirk plastered on his face, even though her back was to him and she was still walking away. "Well, miss, I've got to say, you're really not all too bad to look at yourself. I mean, especially with the way you have your shirt cut so high and all..."

"Excuse you, but did you not just hear a word I've said?" Flannery spun around on her heels and stared at him, her hand on her hips. "Remember the whole 'hitting on a girl you don't know' thing? This is what I'm talking about! Stop it!"

"Oh, I like it when you order me around like that." Gary purred, leaning over her, one arm supporting himself with the shelves behind him. Flannery shrank back against the cans of green beans, as if she could melt right into them and get away. "But I don't think I'm going to listen. I think I like you angry a little better..."

"Get away from me!" she said finally when she found her breath again. "I don't want to have anything to do with you!" She ducked under his arm and tore off down the isle, but Gary followed deftly behind her. Well, her heart was officially pounding out a frantic rhythm in her chest. But she wasn't so sure it was her nerves...

"You won't lose me that easily, you know." he said, popping out right in front of her as she turned down the isle full of spices. She jumped and gasped at his sudden appearance, but quickly regained her composure and brushed past him, her nose held in the air. Gary raised an eyebrow at her.

"Really? You're going to try ignoring me?" Hands in his pockets, he trailed behind her. "You know that never works. Besides, I'm sure I can hold out longer than you can. I've had more practice..." he trailed off and inside she cringed, knowing full well the 'hidden' meaning behind his words. She gripped the shelf a plethora of spices were sitting on and scooped a couple into her basket, and again tried to ignore Gary as he shifted through the spices to see what she'd bought.

"Aw, you got the mild kind?" he asked, holding up a tiny bottle of red powder. "The super-hot kind is so much better!" He paused for a moment to let a thought process take place. "Kind of like me!"

"I don't like spicy things." she answered. She heard Gary snicker behind her and she felt her eyes roll. She wasn't so sure if she wanted to know why, though…

"That's too bad. It's a shame you have such a tender mouth." he replied. "That'll make it a little harder for me, I'm used to being rough with the girls I'm with."

"Ugh, stop it! I'm not even 'with' you yet, so stop talking about it like that!" She felt the very strong urge to pick up one of the spice bottles in her basket and lob it at his head, but refrained. She did have a certain image to keep, being the gym leader and all…

Her thoughts were interrupted with lovely daydreams of lobbing various other, much heavier things at Gary's head when he spoke again. "Yet? You mean you're planning on getting with me in the future?" She turned bright red and held up her hands in front of her, her hands falling in her face, trying to stutter out a protest. Great, way to go, Flannery. But before she could manage to get an entire word out, he moved on to another topic, her spices. Again. "Why do you buy so many of these? What do you use them for, anyway? You don't seem to have anything in your basket that needs them."

"I use it on my ramen." Flannery huffed. "It's pretty bland without them, you know." She moved swiftly off down the isle to the checkout. If she could just get home and in her house before he did any more damage…

"No, I didn't know. I've never had ramen before. Is it good? I think you should make me some sometime, Little Miss Flirt."

"Little Miss Flirt?!" Flannery spun on her heel and stalked toward Gary, her arms stiff at her side. She Stomped up real close to him, her chest practically touching his, and jabbed a finger into him. "I'm not flirting with you in anyway! Where are you getting these ideas from?"

"You implied that you were planning on getting with me in the future," he listed off, "and you blushed when I called you out on it, and though you say you are very annoyed with the 'way I'm acting,'" He said this part in air quotes. "you haven't run home yet. And everyone knows that girls who play hard to get are just dying for you to get in their pants anyway."

Flannery glared at him for a moment more, her hands clenching harder into fists at her side. Gary continued to smirk down at her, and suddenly, without warning, leaned in the remaining distance and landed a peck on her lips. Flannery backed away immediately, her glare turned into a look of disgust.

"Ewww! God, I've only known you for ten minutes and you're already exactly like one of those creep, perverted fanboys!" Flannery spun on her heel and stalked toward the cash register, where she slammed down some money, told the clerk to keep the change, and smacked the door open, not bothering to wait for the automatic ones to open. She ignored every one of Gary's protests and took long, striding steps back to her house. She was sick of him, sick of them, sick of all of it! Why was it she became a gym leader again? Because she was a good trainer? She was never going to let her future kids have pokemon ever. If she even had kids at all. Men were slowly changing in opinion in her mind.

She had just managed to dig her keys out of her pocket and was inserting it into the first lock on her door when she heard his footsteps approaching. Her stomach dropped.

"Wait! Stop walking so fast!"

Her hand began shaking as she tried time and time again to get the lock open, but the key suddenly seemed to become a lot bigger. How come it wouldn't go in, now that she wanted it to?

"Hold up, seriously! I have to talk to you - "

She got the key into the first lock and twisted it almost violently, and was surprised when it didn't snap off in her hand. But she turned it the wrong way, corrected herself, and began trying to insert a different key into one of the other three locks remaining. Why was it she put so many of these locks on here again? She was just digging herself into a deeper grave with all of them.

Suddenly, her shoulders were grabbed and wrenched around, and she was left staring at Gary, who was holding on to her arms and looking down at her very seriously. The basket of groceries she was in too much of a hurry to bag dropped to the cement porch beneath them from her hand. He had such an intense stare. Her heart began beating erratically again.

"I shouldn't be compared to a fanboy, under any circumstances." he said to her. She was entirely speechless. "I don't obsess, I don't stalk, and I don't go out of my way to tell everyone how great someone or something is unless they truly deserve it." His face seemed to inch closer, or was it Flannery's imagination? Or was she the one doing the inching? Her mind was drawing a blank to everything that wasn't Gary's voice or face at the moment.

"I might follow, I might brag, and I might lust, but I am not a fanboy, so don't you ever think of me like that again, understand?"

Flannery nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. Her stomach began churning, perfectly in tune with her beating heart, when she felt his hands start to slide down her arms now that he was finished. "So why bother telling me all that?" she asked finally. "What do you want from me that makes you think I'll have another chance to talk to you again?"

"Well, you're the gym leader, so of course I'll see you again." he answered.

"Who told you?"

"You just did." he smirked at her. "And what do I want from you?" This last part he whispered, and she gave an involuntary gasp when his hands, which had still been tracing lines of fire down her arms now moved to her bare waist and brushed lightly over her skin. "Well, I told you that I might lust, right?"

Much to his surprise, he was not the one to instigate the following kiss. Flannery nearly threw herself at him, throwing her arms around him and pulling him closer, eyes tightly shut. Gary, though surprised, held her tightly at the waist and leaned against the house with one hand to support them. There was no sweet, adorable in-between kiss, this one started hard, and it would definitely end that way. The kiss was broken for just a moment, when the two looked the opposite up and down, and Flannery bit her lip a little uncertainly, as if she had done something wrong. Gary just smirked into her mouth just before they started up again.

"I thought you had a tender mouth?"

She bit down gently on his lip and he only just managed to stifle his groan enough to keep other people from hearing. Before they could go any farther though, she finished unlocking the door to her house and tossed her groceries and keys inside, afterwards beckoning Gary in with one finger.

"Hey! Everybody, it's Flannery! She's outside! Miss Flannery, hi!"

A dozen or so boys were standing on her lawn, pimply-faced, long and lanky, holding cameras, and some holding in the urge to begin beating up the other boys for even glancing at her. Gary looked at Flannery, she looked up at him, then promptly flipped the bird to the boys outside before shutting the door behind them.

"I just don't like spicy things." Flannery answered when she realized she was in the clear. "However, hot things I definitely enjoy."

**A/N: So Flannery and her hatred of fanboys seems to be very symmetrical to my hatred of Twilight fangirls. Or just Twilight in general... and if you haven't, you ought to read Damned Lolita's rant, hers is completely hilarious. I love that girl, even though we've only talked, like, three times. **

**Then there is the allusion to Pulp Fiction. Ha, try and find it.**

**Gary is more like his old self in the anime. Sorry about that.**


	13. MARRIAGE Bonds of Holy Macaroni

**A/N: I've been waiting to write this one since the prompts came out, and I hope it will live up to my expectations. I'm not all fangirly for the pairing, but the plot I'm pretty spazzy about, I won't lie. **

**I guess this is a bit AU-ish because these two don't live anywhere close to each other, but bear with me, here. Also, this isn't the best-written, because I was in a hurry to write up a different prompt for later, but I'll rewrite this one eventually, when I have the time.**

**Prompt: Marriage  
Pairing: Max/Vivi Winstrate (Punyshipping)**

Max gulped. He didn't have the nerve to push May's hand away from his head anymore, he didn't have the guts to tell her to stop combing his hair, it looked fine anyway. He didn't have the strength to smack away her hand when it reached down to fix his bow tie. Max could hardly feel a thing anymore. All he could do was stand there dumbly, his gaze blank as it stared off into space.

A week earlier, Vivi had bounded up to his front door, her red hair in a couple of pigtails, and her pale yellow dress swishing around her. "Max," she said when he answered, "I wanna talk to you real quick."

He asked his mom if he could go out to play, then went out and sat on the steps with her. They were silent for a good minute, in which she smoothed her dress, tapped her fingers on her knees, twiddled her thumbs, clasped her hands in her lap, and began it over again, until finally she broke the silence.

"Max, you still like-like me, right?" she asked. He nodded; they had been going out for a while now. They were only eight, so the concept of 'going out' meant that they just had the ability to say they were officially boyfriend-girlfriend, not actually going on dates. She smiled at this and clapped her hands. "Good! Then I want to know... do you wanna get married?"

Max thought it over for a moment. Married? Like, saying "I do" in fancy outfits to each other in front of some people? Being together forever? Which, of course, they would be. Because love definitely worked like that.

"Okay!" he said brightly, ignoring the little nagging voice in the back of his mind. "Sure I'll marry you!"

"But we'll need a ring." Vivi said thoughtfully with a finger to her chin. "And you kinda need to propose to me first. And then we can invite people to come to the ceremony!" Max thought for a moment, then jumped to his feet, about to race inside.

"Stay right there," he told her, "I'll be right back." And he ran inside, thundering up the stairs to his room to scour the shelves for something resembling a ring. May peeked around the corner of his door frame, one eyebrow raised.

"Max? What are you doing?"

"Looking for a ring!" He pulled his head out of the closet for a moment to look at her. "Do you have one?"

"Yeah, I have loads of them. I used to collect the ones I got out of bubblegum machines." she said. "You want one?"

"Yes!" Max followed her like an obedient puppy into her room. May sifted through her drawers and finally pulled out an old shoebox, pawing through it and finally selecting one ring she had triples of. Max thanked her and ran outside again, stopping on the cement steps below Vivi.

"Max? What took you so long?"

"Vivi, will you marry me?" he asked, holding out the ring and slipping it onto her right hand. Vivi squealed when she saw the green stone set into the painted gold plastic.

"Yes I will! I'm going to go tell Mommy right away and we'll get started on planning the wedding now! You wanna have it in my backyard next Saturday?"

"Sure!"

Max now regretted that word. His face was red, and had the temperature of early fall risen to that of the solstice of summer? Why did his tie seem like it was choking him, or at least attempting to? Why did he suddenly feel as if the world was crashing to his ankles? Marriage was a dedicating bond. If he was with Vivi, what if he started not to like her anymore?

May pushed him out the door and onto the steps to the backyard of Vivi and her family. His parents, her parents, and both of their friends had all showed up, dressed nicely for the occasion. One of his friends was at the other end of the makeshift isle they had lain out out of a roll of old Christmas wrapping paper with little snowmen all over it. His friend couldn't find a bible in his house that his parents would let him use, so he made do with the giant dictionary he found in his basement, which almost seemed bigger than he was! Max walked down the paper and stood at the end by his friend, his hands twisting around each other nervously.

Of course he wouldn't stop like-liking Vivi! She was the best girlfriend ever! She liked to play kickball and tug-of-war and loved playing Pokemon Trainer, unlike the other girls. She didn't scream when Max would show her a cool new bug he'd caught, and she'd always ask him to help her look for frogs down by the creek. Maybe This whole marriage thing wasn't going to be so bad after all.

He heard Vivi's older brother suddenly started up on the little electric keyboard he managed to find in their house. It was badly played and he missed quite a few notes, but Max definitely recognized the tune. Vivi was going to come out soon!

Yes, she did come out. One of her friends ran out ahead of her and opened the door, and then there she was, standing in all her beauty. Viv was wearing a ruffly, pale yellow dress with puffy sleeves and lace trim, and had her hair pulled back in a yellow headband. She and her friends had made a veil out of some old mesh they found at a craft store, if he remembered correctly, and taped it to her headband, then stuck little stickers all over the material. She walked slowly up the wrapping paper to him as they followed behind, each carrying a corner of her veil.

When she reached the makeshift altar, they left her and she stood in front of Max, smiling widely. He felt suddenly much more at ease now. "You look pretty."

"Thanks!" she giggled and gave a little twirl. "You really think so?"

"So, I don't really know how to say this." said Max's friend, talking loudly for everyone watching to hear him. "But I'm going to try! So, uh, Max, do you like-like Vivi?"

"Yep." he answered. All of her girl friends swooned in the front rows, and his parents cooed from the back row.

"And Vivi, do you like-like Max too?"

"Uh-huh." she answered happily. All of Max's boy friends groaned at how icky it was that they would dare admit something like that, and her parents chuckled a bit at the reaction.

"So, do you both take each other to be your lawful wedded husband and wife in holy macaroni?" he asked, scrutinizing a word on the page in the dictionary. When they looked at him, he pointed to a word on the page in the massive book. "Look it up! Under marriage it says marriage is when two people who love each other get together through the bonds of holy macaroni!"

Vivi giggled. "I do!"

Max wanted so desperately to correct his friend on his 'matrimony' issue, but held his tongue. "I do."

"So, um, exchange rings and kiss the bride!" he said, slamming the book shut. Max dug around in his pocket and pulled out the ring he had given her earlier, which she had given back to him so he could give it to her later at the actual wedding and put it back on her right hand where it belonged. She laughed and pulled out an old Ring Pop ring without the sucker part and pushed it onto his right hand as well.

Wait, _kiss the bride_? Max suddenly froze. Kissing? As in actually touching his lips to hers? But that was gross! Only adults did that! He could see the boys grimacing out of the corner of his eye, and hear the girls cooing at how sweet it was going to be. Vivi looked at him expectantly, a bit of a hopeful look on her face. He hadn't once kissed her in the whole time they were boyfriend-girlfriend, and he wasn't so sure now. Could he get away with marriage without actually kissing her?

But no. Max felt all eyes upon him, and his face heated up, but what did it the most was Vivi's expression changing to one of hope to one of hurt, and he managed to man himself up enough to lean forward and peck her on the lips quickly.

Everyone cheered, even the boys now. Vivi's smile was a mile wide, and she threw her bouquet of paper, homemade flowers into the air for someone to catch. Mrs. Winstrate stood up and clapped her hands to get everyone's attention.

"I have cake and punch in the house for everyone now!" she said, and laughed when all the kids thundered into the house for the sweets. Max and Vivi stayed where they were, looking at each other a little longer.

"So, we're married now, huh?" he asked quietly. She nodded.

"Yup!" She paused for a moment, then grew an evil smirk on her face. "Now we gotta have babies, you know."

Max was then seen running into the house, screaming loudly, while Vivi chased behind him, giggling the entire way.

**A/N: Awww, little kid weddings! Don't worry, they don't know about the birds and the bees yet, Vivi was just referring to getting a babydoll they would both take care of. Don'tcha just love that good ol' fashioned holy macaroni? **

**Don't tell me you never got married on the playground of your school when you were in grade school, or never knew someone who did. Or, if you hadn't seen/done any of those options, at least read the Baby Sitter's Little Sister Club books where Karen marries Ricky. Seriously. **

**Once again, to you regulars who haven't done so already, go vote in that poll of mine, because every vote counts towards the future of one of the chapters of this story!**


	14. Become One with Your NATURE

**A/N: After many attempts at writing this with a Flannery/Winona pairing, (which I deeply regret not being able to write... because I really wanted to!) I had to switch it to this one. However, this works out because I promised CheetahGoddess and IceCrome I'd write this pairing for them. So here it is. **

**Prompt: Nature  
Pairing: Dawn/Damion (Twinleafshipping)**

"Come on, catch me if you can!" Dawn giggled, making a break for Lake Verity. She was wearing her pink skirt over a cute little pink bikini with matching flip-flops, a towel tucked under her arm. The sun shone brightly down on Twinleaf, the sky bluer than blue, with a few whispy, cotton-like clouds moving lazily high across the sky.

Behind her, only slightly annoyed that Dawn took her head start before he even left his house, Damion came running. He had a light, bright white shirt over a pair of green swim trunks with an orange towel slung around his shoulders like he had seen his dad do in pictures when he was Damion's age. He was barefoot, choosing to let the bright green summer grass nature had provided for such summer days as this be his carpet instead.

Still, even without shoes, and even over the gravel road on their way, Damion just managed to catch Dawn as she had stopped to lay her towel out on the ground by the lake. His towel flew off behind him, and Dawn gave a happy little shriek as he tackled her around the waist, flinging them both into the lake. They hit the glassy surface with a splash, and were immediately submerged in the cool water.

Dawn managed to wriggle free and swam away, taking in the underwater scene around her. The lake wasn't so deep that it looked bottomless and dark beneath her, but everything seemed to glow with the bright sunshine that filtered down from above her. Now sunk again in the middle of the lake there was the odd cave-like structure, where Dawn knew Mesprit once resided. It now roamed Sinnoh, popping out at her when she was traveling, asking for a battle as fun. But now was not the time for traveling and battles, now was the time for fun she hadn't experienced for two years.

Two hands gripped Dawn's hips from above and brought her to the surface, where, once the two broke, Dawn laughed and tried to get free from the hands that were tickling her. "Damion! D-damion! S-stop th-th-that tickles!"

"Say it!" he yelled above her pleas. "Say it or I'll keep going!"

"You're the best and so much better and smarter and faster than me and it doesn't matter if you wear a dorky green scarf all the time!" Dawn yelled though her giggles. Gradually Damion slowed until his hands stopped their tickling and rested on her hips lightly under the water's surface. Dawn's giggles slowed too, and she finally managed to relax, resting her hands on his shoulders to help hold herself above the water.

Swimming in Lake Verity had been a daily activity for the two trainers prior to their adventures starting. On the first day of summer, when the sun was bright and the plants had grown and the water was still just a little bit cool from the spring, they would put on their bathing suits and run out to the lake where they would send most of the day splashing around and relaxing, and then spend the next day comparing sunburns and counting the number of mosquito bites. When the adventures started, Dawn found herself missing the companionship of Damion first, and the hot summer days they would spend in this manner second.

Suddenly, Dawn noticed just how his hands rested on her hips, fingertips lightly brushing the waistband of her swimsuit bottom. She hoped her blush would pass off as the beginnings of a sunburn as she quickly kicked away from him in the water and then dove under to clear her head. Part of the reason she had missed Damion so much? Her teensy-weensy crush on him. But it was only small, mind you, nothing too big! She didn't think about him whenever her mind wasn't occupied with her pokemon or battling. Of course she didn't doodle his name in her journal when she kept records of her day's events! And obviously, she didn't find herself analyzing all of his actions when the two of them _would_ meet up occasionally, wondering if the little lingering touches were displays of friendship affection or something else, something deeper. Because, of course, it was only a little crush.

Dawn swam towards the shoreline. The lake wasn't murky at all, because most of the dirt that could get into the water was either covered by thick rocks that lined the shores or so undisturbed by the lack of human activity. Where the grass grew, in fact, was up a little ways higher than where the water level sat, meaning the only way to get to shore was to climb up the rocks and pull yourself onto the land. However, Dawn remembered the rocks like the back of her hand and knew exactly where she could put her feet and hands in order to pull herself onto dry land without too much struggle.

She felt the biting initial sting of the air touching her wet skin as she pulled herself up out of the water to her waist, heaving herself up with her arms. However, she made a bit more of a show out of it than usual, hoping to catch Damion's attention. A little part of her wanted to catch his glance her way as she pulled herself out of the water. She knew he would take his time staring if her back was turned, because he was a guy, and they tended to do that, whether they actually liked the girl or not. Though, she did hope it was the latter.

"Aw, you're already getting out?" Damion pouted from a little ways out in the water as she pulled herself up. She smirked; he had noticed after all. " But we only just got in!"

"I'm laying out my towel!" she called. "I didn't get to do that before someone," she turned and stared pointedly at Damion, who grinned sheepishly, "came and tackled me into the water. Suppose I was still wearing my skirt?"

"You'd have to take it off to get it dry." he said. "Which isn't a big deal, because you'd be taking it off anyway."

"No, I'd look like you with your shirt." she said, pointing to it. "However, if you're going out for some sort of wet t-shirt contest, I'd gladly vote for you." Dawn giggled a little at this and held a hand over her mouth when Damion looked down at himself in surprise. He plucked at his shirt as if he had never seen it before, then swam towards shore and began pulling himself up by the rocks.

"I'll only enter the contest if you do too." he said, smirking cheekily at her. "Then it'll be a win-win situation either way!"

"Oh ha ha." Dawn laughed, grabbing the back of his shirt and helping to heave him up onto the shore. "You'd settle to see your best friend because you can't get any yourself? That's a bit sad."

"Hey, I never said that!" Damion protested as he pulled his shirt off and laid it down on a rock in the sun. Dawn tried her hardest not to stare at him. He wasn't much to look at, especially compared to Volkner, whom he had seen splashing around in the surf back in Sunyshore with that Jasmine girl who had given her Surf, but Damion _seemed_ as nice because of her (itty bitty, mind you,) crush on him. She turned around and busied herself with her towel as he spread out his own towel and wiped his feet on it, which were covered with grass clippings. She rolled her eyes at this.

"Why do you bother? You're only going to be jumping in again, aren't you?"

"Only if you do. It's so _boring_ swimming by yourself!" Dawn stared at him. That was possibly the whiniest voice she had ever heard that boy use before in her life. And she had known him for fifteen years so far! She smiled then and positioned herself at the edge of the grass, then raised her arms above her head and dove gracefully into the water, arching under it and giggling as a school of Magikarp scattered around her. When she popped back up, Damion was staring at her with a mix of emotions. Amazement? Arousement? Impressment? (Refreshment?... Sorry, it rhymed.)

"I thought it was boring by yourself?" Dawn teased, sticking her tongue out. Damion hiked up his trunks (which he had confessed to her earlier he had bought a bit too big on accident,) and then took a running start, launching himself off the ground and into the air. Dawn watched as he flew farther and farther out into the lake, then pulled his knees up to his chest and held them in place with his arms.

Oh no...

He landed on the surface, and immediately water began spraying everywhere. Dawn held up her arms to protect herself, but it was it vain. Droplets of the liquid flew into the air, catching sunlight and shining it everywhere, like tiny disco balls. When Damion surfaced, he wore a silly grin on his face and raised his hands over his head triumphantly.

"Yes! I am still the cannon-ball champ!" he cheered. "You and your sexy girly dives are no match for the king!" He swam a little backstroke circle around Dawn, boasting about himself and continuing to talk until Dawn spotted something floating out in the water a little ways away. It was big and green and looked oddly like –

"Damion, your swim trunks!" She immediately put a hand over her eyes and flicked her free hand in the direction of said trousers. "Go put those on! And next year, get some that actually fit!"

"Aw, come on. I didn't mean to!" She heard the water move as Damion began swimming lazily in the direction of his clothes. "Besides, I think I kind of like it better this way. Everything's so much _freer_!" Dawn grimaced. "I mean, I feel so at one with nature!"

"And you sound like a goofball. That is your nature, so you shouldn't become one with it." Dawn retorted. She heard him laugh a little at her response, then the wet sloshing of the water as he, she assumed, returned his trunks to their original spot. When she looked up, he was climbing out of the water, his pants securely fashioned with the drawstring nearly three times its original length and tied in a big, awkward-looking bow.

"Why're you getting out?"

"I don't want to risk losing them again." he said with a shrug. Besides, if you stay in the water too long, you get pruny!"

"You've never cared about that before." Dawn muttered as she swam over to the rocks and pulled herself out of the water. "Oh well, the sun's getting warmer, so it won't be too bad anyway." She picked up her towel and began patting herself dry, finishing off by shaking it around her head violently to get out most of the moisture in her blue hair. Damion fell back into his towel and flopped his arms out to his sides, smiling in content and 'Mmmm'-ing as he took in the sunlight.

Dawn placed herself by his side and stretched her arms above her head as well, trying to ignore the bubbly feeling of being next to Damion again. She was thinking too far into things, crush or no crush. They were just friends, and she knew this, and yet she still continued to pine over him. Maybe this day wasn't such a good idea after all...

She heard Damion shift next to her, and she halfway hoped he would be jumping back into the water as he used to, like his old restless self. She was positive he could hear her thoughts at times, or see how hard her heart was panging in her chest. But through her closed eyelids, she noticed a shadow falling over her and she cracked them open to see what it was.

Damion was staring down at her, his bright, golden-orange eyes boring into hers. She gulped down the little lump that had suddenly made its way into her throat. "Damion? What are you looking at?" she managed to squeak out quietly. The boy didn't say a word, but continued to stare. Dawn was suddenly all-too aware of his other hand, the one that was not propping himself up, resting on her waist. Her breath caught in her throat. The sun was entirely too hot now. Or was it just her face heating up?

She noticed when a little bit of pink spread across his face to match her, but took even more note when he slowly lowered himself and pressed his lips gently to hers. Her entire world lit up with a giant sunburst of light. Her stomach flipped over three times, did a cartwheel or two, and then began tap-dancing on her heart. Was this _really_ what it felt like to be kissed by someone you liked? Dawn never wanted it to end, never wanted it to stop. It felt too right to just stop.

But stop it did. And abruptly, too. Damion suddenly pulled away and looked off to the side, biting his lip. And before she could protest, he had mumbled an apology and stood to make a hasty exit. Dawn only just managed to get over her bewilderment in time to leap up and bar his way out of Verity Lakefront. He wouldn't meet her eye.

"Why are you just leaving like that?" she asked, holding her arms out to her sides as if they would be able to stop him if he decided to bolt. "What's going on? And why did you do that?" She knew her face was red and knew it clashed on many different levels with her hair and swimsuit, but she didn't care. Damion rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, still unable to meet her eye.

"I think it's kind of obvious why I kissed you..." he said quietly, turning a brighter shade of red at the word 'kiss.' "But I guess I bolted because..." he paused, as if trying to figure out how to phrase it. "Because I guess when it comes to you and showing my emotions, I'm not good at it and... and maybe I'm a little shy, okay?"

Dawn paused before she burst into a fit of giggles. "You? Shy? Never!" Her lighthearted laughter made him look up at her for the first time since he had kissed her, and she saw just how honest he was by the look in his eyes. "I don't know how you could have thought it was a bad thing. You know I wouldn't have ran away." She put a hand on his shoulder. "Though, next time, don't be so spontaneous about it, a little warning so I can prep myself to put on my best kissing face would be nice."

Damion's face slowly turned from worried to amused, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He leaned in and left a little peck at the corner of her mouth, then jumped back to run back to the lake.

"Hey, spontaneity is just part of my nature." He said with a wink, then turned and jumped into the water, making sure to keep a firm hold on his trunks. "Maybe you ought to let yours show a little more often so I wouldn't have to!" he called, just before he hit the water and disappeared in a cloud of bubbles.

**A/N: This is the failest chapter of anything I've ever written. It's taken me three weeks to pump this out in pieces because I can't do a thing with it. These were some hard prompts, guys. Very tough cookies. I'm sorry I didn't do the pairing justice.**

**So, since this is close enough and I forgot to ask last chapter, what's your favorite chapter thus far? I want to know! But don't you DARE say all of them, (cough Blake cough) say one, three at most. And then your least favorite. I'm just curious, nothing's going to offend me, I promise.**

**And with that, the next chapter will be made of pure win and awesome, so keep an eye out for it.**


	15. ONLY Once

**A/N: Finally, my OTP. It was also surprisingly hard finding a prompt for these guys too, like it was for May and Drew. I think this is because, since I have such a love for them, my mind can't go with just any idea. I ended up sticking them with one of the leftover prompts, so hopefully this will be good. (But I couldn't NOT use them! What kind of horrible person do you think I am?)**

**Prompt: Only****  
Pairing: Aaron/Lucian (EliteUndershipping!)  
Warning: Extreme awesome ahead. **

Aaron and Lucian were, as most suspected, good friends. All the members of the League were very close, in fact, despite some usual arguments that seemed to prove otherwise. Flint and Aaron were almost as close as Flint and Volkner, and Cynthia and Lucian would often engage in discussion about books and history and other scholarly subjects the other two boys found boring. Cynthia and Bertha, as the two girls, found solace in each other when the boys were being too... well, guy-ish for them to handle.

Bertha and Flint, though they would rather describe it as a burning hatred for one another, bonded closely though their numerous arguments. Lucian and Bertha had a relationship paralleling one of a son and mother, always with something to talk about, and she was always interested in what was going on with his life. Flint and Lucian, then, seemed to bring out the hidden attributes to each other; Flint his serious moments and mature side, and Lucian his fun-loving and adventurous side.

But Aaron and Lucian seemed to have a closer relationship with one another than any of the others. They seemed to understand each other a little more, or maybe they just put up with each other more, or maybe their interests fit perfectly together: one always eager to learn and find out more, the other always full of knowledge and able to answer any question the boy could throw at him. Whatever the case, there was rarely ever a dull moment.

In this case, though, there was an exception to the last statement. Bertha was out visiting her relatives, Cynthia was out on an excursion of some old Ruins in Hoenn, and Flint was busy having himself a ball in Sunyshore with Volkner. Thus the two were left alone, if only for a day, but they had already exhausted all of the usual activities, and were now seated in the kitchen, the room in which all boredom in the castle seemed to circle, and staring out into nothing, trying to think of something to do. Well, they were, until Aaron's tummy made some odd noises that even Lucian could hear across the table.

"I'm hungry." Aaron stated the obvious. "Want me to whip up something? It's pretty much dinner time, anyway." he said, standing from the table. Lucian looked up at him curiously.

"You can cook?"

"Yup! You don't think Bertha and Flint are the only ones around here, do you?" he asked with a smile and a smarmy wink. (Despite popular belief that any object not made out of sponge could be considered a weapon in Flint's hands, he was a great cook. Not that he could hold a candle to Bertha, mind you, but he could whip up a nice meal – one that wasn't insta-anything, - without burning anything down.)

"Well, I kinda figured..."

"When I was little and bored, I used to sit up on the counter and watch my mom cut up vegetables and cook dinner, and I started picking up things from her." he answered. "Go check the fridge for some food, will you? I'll check the pantry." Lucian nodded and stood, making his way to the fridge. He could just imagine Aaron as a little boy, his eyes bright and curious, seated on the counter next to his mother, watching her chop up some vegetables and asking questions about preparations, all the while kicking his legs and swinging them, as a little kids did when they had too much energy.

"I can actually see you doing that as a kid, you know?" he said absently, pawing through the contents of the fridge. A couple red peppers, a foam tray of chicken, and some celery; He pulled these things out and turned to face Aaron at the pantry behind him. "You find anything?"

"Yup!" He held up half a bag of rice in one hand and a myriad of spices in his other. "Bring what you got over to the counter, I'll get the water boiling for the rice." He set his own things on the counter and reached for a pot that hung on the rack above the stove. He filled it halfway with water and tossed that on the stove, turning the respective burner on. Next he grabbed a pan and greased it down with something, and took an onion out of a box that Lucian, who, as smart as he was, was kitchen inept, had no idea they had. Aaron was about to peel it when he stopped and looked at the counter where Lucian set his stuff down, then back up at his superior.

"Celery?" he asked in a voice that suggested he was speaking to a young child. "Really?"

"You said bring over what I found–"

"Celery is Buneary food." he said curtly. "Besides, it's gross! Put it back!"

Lucian was taken aback at the blunt response of the boy as he issued his request – scratch that – demand. He'd never heard him use that tone before, only when training his pokemon. Aaron wasn't usually one to take charge of anything. All the same, he picked up the apparently offending vegetable and put it back in the fridge. As he opened the door to set it in, Aaron called out a different request over his shoulder.

"Hey, check and see if there's any tobasco or hot sauce in the fridge there."

"Spicy food?"

"I like spicy!" Aaron announced, "the spicier the better! And if it's ever too hot, there's some chip dip in the fridge there that'll help tone it down. Why, you don't like spicy?"

"I like it fine," Lucian answered, coming up with a small bottle of hot sauce, just as Aaron asked. "but probably not as much as..." he stopped himself in mid-sentence when he saw Aaron now. The boy was just finishing tying a pink and frilly apron around his waist, bearing the words KISS THE COOK in bright, bold red. Lucian suppressed a laugh with a hand over his smirking mouth.

"You look ridiculous."

"Shutup." Aaron muttered quickly, completely demolishing the spaces that ought to have been between the words. "It'sAllICouldFindOkay?"

He laughed and ruffled the boy's bright green hair, which was clashing terrifically with his blush. "I was just teasing. Start your cooking, I'm hungry too!"

With those words, the boy was off with a confident nod. Lucian hovered occasionally, but mostly he just stood back and let it happen, watching him go back and forth across the kitchen, washing vegetables, boiling water, chopping chicken, mixing onions, chicken, and various spices and the hot sauce in with the meat on the frying pan, and an assortment of other things that Lucian didn't know what what to think of it. Somewhere along the line where Aaron was chopping up the vegetables to throw them in with the chicken, Lucian suddenly got the urge to jump up and sit on the counter and swing his legs like he imagined Aaron to have done as a little boy. He refrained, however, with a little pink blush as the only evidence of the notion. How was it that even at the _thought_ of Aaron doing something cute made his face go hot?

"Almost ready!" Aaron announced suddenly. "Will you grab us a couple plates?" His head was cocked sideways over his shoulder, and he was looking at Lucian. Another cute thing about the boy, the way he'd cock his head when he had a question. It'd tilt to the side just enough to make his green bangs hang a little in his face, and the way he'd stare up at you when he did so, peeking through those bangs, gave him an adorably irresistible quality. Lucian often wondered if he knew how he looked, and if he practiced it, because he sometimes seemed to know how powerful of an effect it had on the Elite Four's bookworm.

He'd have gone to get the plates anyway, but his purple eyes locked with Aaron's momentarily and lingered a bit longer than usual when he nodded, just before he turned to the cabinet. What was going on? Suddenly, now that everyone was out, there were romantic sparks flying? It had to be the most cannon of romantic setups Lucian had ever read. Seriously no creativity put into it at all. (...)

He grabbed a pair of plates and brought them over to the boy, and watched as he scooped some rice and chicken and pepper and spicy mixture onto his plate. The rice seemed to be orange, and the chicken even had a distinguishable color now, and Aaron shrugged sheepishly. "I probably used too much hot sauce and chili powder."

"Are you conducting some sort of experiment to see if it's possible to burn your way out of a human stomach using only food?" Lucian asked with some amusement. "But it _does_ look rather tasty..."

"Come on, we're both hungry! Let's just eat!" Aaron filled up his plate and pulled Lucian over to the table, his friend at the head and he on his left side, as the seating usually went. It looked good, he knew the ingredients in it were good, and it _smelled_ rather good as well... even if it did clear his sinuses in a heartbeat by just being in the same room as it.

"Is this dish actually called anything?" he asked, Aaron's fork was halfway to his mouth, ready to shovel in another bite, when he lowered it a moment to answer.

"No, I just improvised." he said. "Now, actually eat it! I didn't slave away in the kitchen for hours like that just to have you judge my food before you even try it!"

"You sound like Bertha." he said, picking up his fork. Aaron rolled his eyes.

"I can grab your ear and drag you into the living room for a spanking like she did with Flint last week when he made a comment about her cooking if you want." he said. Lucian's face heated up immediately at that. Not the comment itself, but the fact that his mind was actually considering answering the suggestion...

He quickly took a bite, hoping the spice would make the rest of his face red to match. He nodded, not too bad! It wasn't too spicy after all. But as he opened his mouth to speak, his tongue felt like someone had torched it with a Flamethrower.

"My tongue!" He reached out immediately for a glass of water. "It's on fire! What did you do to it?!"

"I told you it was spicy." Aaron sang as the older man downed the glass of water in one fell swoop. He took another casual bite. "I did warn you, it's your own fault you took such a big bite."

"You've burned it alive and set it out in the sun to fry!" Lucian said, rushing over to the sink. "I need more water!"

"Actually, that dip would help better. With foods, you need something thick, cool, and creamier than water to get rid of a super-spicy taste." He pulled the small tub out of the fridge and dipped a finger in it as Lucian turned around, a look of desperation and interest in his eye. "Just have a little and the spice goes away." He stuck the finger in his mouth and sucked on it. Lucian's gaze trailed over the finger Aaron had in his mouth, and he felt incredibly lucky that the redness in his face could be mistaken for the bite of the meal Aaron had just made. He dipped his own finger in there and ate the dip off it quickly, relaxing a bit when the burn began receding. He reached for another, but Aaron pulled the container out of his reach at the last moment.

"You only need one." he said smugly, then dipped his own finger in it once more. "Any more than once can waste the dip we'll all use later." Although somewhat dense when it came to reading other people, especially sarcasm, Aaron made the connection between the blush and the lingering stare and the look Lucian had given him when he had some of the dip himself just then. He kind of liked this feeling of power, but not so that he wanted to do it all the time. Only once was enough...

"Aaron," Lucian growled, reaching once more for the container that the boy held out of his reach. The boy shook his finger and then stuck it in his mouth once more, sucking much more deliberately than last time.

"Nope, once was enough for you." he said tauntingly. "This is good stuff, though. Too bad it's mine." he said, holding the tub over his head like some grand prize. Lucian made another fruitless attempt to grab it again, trying to ignore Aaron's hand that was having some awkward relations with his mouth at the moment.

"Aaron, if you don't let me have some of that this instant–"

"Well, if you _really_ want some," Aaron dipped his now-clean finger into the tub once more and held it out to Lucian, "here's some." He bounced the hand, as if it were trying to get his attention. It was taunting him, and Lucian, against his better judgment and thinking with his burning mouth and not his brain, was actually considering taking the offered dollop.

"No?" Aaron pulled his hand away after a silent moment. "Oh well, more for me!" He pulled his hand away and had just about began to lick that off too when Lucian's hand shot out and grabbed the boy's wrist, deciding that a few moments of a humiliating situation that could, and probably would later be mentioned with a side of heavy innuendo was worth healing his searing mouth.

He licked and Aaron's eyes grew bigger, the green in them starting to stand out more and more. He hadn't actually imagined Lucian would do it! Not that he was complaining too much... He could feel the man's tongue swirling around his pointer finger and as it progressed to soon encompass the whole finger, his face tinted redder and redder until there was no distinguishable difference between him and one of the red peppers he had prepared. Slowly Lucian stopped, and they were left standing there, Aaron's wrist in Lucian's hand, his pointer finger still pointed out as if it might still hold some traces of dip. (Which, at this point, was damn near impossible.)

They stared at one another in complete silence, not sure where to go from there. Oh, they had ideas, but neither of them could make sense of these thoughts to act on them for a good minute. Aaron felt Lucian tug his wrist and it was the start of a chain reaction. It was all the convincing Aaron needed, anyway. He ran forward and leaped into Lucian, circling his arms around the man's neck and kissing him fiercely. Lucian hugged Aaron closer, overbalanced, and the two fell to the floor, their lips still connected upon impact. Lucian tasted like the spiciest of spicy things, and Aaron of the cool, creamy dip that slowly put an end to the burning in Lucian's mouth, and the two then finally managed to pull away at last.

"This is why you're only allowed to have one scoop of it." Aaron said finally with a smile.

"But it's okay, because I only broke the rule once." Lucian replied. Aaron's green eyes twinkled and he nodded.

"Yup, only once." The only predicament remaining was what to do with the rest of the food and dip that it coupled so well with, and they seemed to decide that they could cover that part of it pretty well together with the new system they worked out.

Lucian was pretty sure this was not going to be the only time this happened anymore.

**A/N: Seme!Aaron. I did it, I managed to write it. I kind of feel like I could take on the world now! I think I've finally managed to give these guys their deserved justice, after all my sad attempts. **

**I don't pretend to know much about cooking, being more of a baker myself. Therefore, the food IS tasty, damnit. Also, I really despise spicy food, actually. **

**I think, for diving into this with no basic idea of where it would be leading, I did very well for this prompt! Yet another good aspect of this challenge!**

**As always, go poll for a later chapter I'm not sure if I should write or not. Depends on you guys. This is the last time I'll ask you all to do so, I promise.  
**


	16. PRINCE and Princess

**A/N: THIS HAS BEEN REDONE. **

**Yeah, the last rendition of this was the most horrible thing I've written since I left my old account. That was like, three years ago. Ugh. At any rate, I wasn't about to have it be the chapter I had judged. **

**Prompt: Prince  
Pairing: Marina/Jimmy (Questshiping)**

Marina had always been a bit of a dreamer. She was always dreaming about wistful, fairytale scenarios and idolizing over the most handsome of boys. Her biggest dream was to be whisked away on the back of a Ponyta by her Prince Charming, hair blowing in the wind and smiling a grin full of shining, white teeth. And a cape, there would have to be a cape. "Marina," he would say, "you're the only princess for me."

"Oh, my Prince," she would reply, her eyes sparkling in the sunshine that flooded the world around them, "I've waited too long to hear you say that." And she would put her arms around his neck and they would ride off into the sunset to live happily ever after, his cape fluttering behind them.

But it played out totally different from that.

It was Halloween, and Violet City was hosting a dance in Sprout Tower, and it genially invited everyone and their Pikachu to come, citizens and trainers alike. Marina, never one to miss a social event, and _never_ one to pass up a shopping opportunity, eagerly agreed to go, and headed straight toward the nearest store to find herself a dress. Fairytale dreamers only deserved the prettiest of princess dresses, after all.

She had picked out a pink one, as most princess dresses go, but the department store lady had stopped her. "Oh no dear, pink isn't your color. Try that blue one over there." She pointed to a pale, powder blue dress in the corner, with a large poofy skirt that opened in the front to reveal white ruffles beneath that. A white sash tied around the middle and complementary ruffles lined the neckline and sleeves, and Marina didn't have to be told twice.

She took it back to her room at the Pokemon Center as quickly as she could and once there, proceeded to let her hair down out of their pigtails to brush them straight so she could do something with them, for once. As soon as this task was accomplished, she threw on her costume and hurried out of the Center to the party, Butterfrees of anticipation fluttering around in her stomach. She saw other people in strange outfits heading in her direction. One kid was wearing a Charmander costume while his friend was a Squirtle, and one couple was going as a pair of salt and pepper shakers. In fact, Marina noticed, she seemed to be one of the few people who didn't have another person to match her costume...

Pushing open the double doors into the Tower, she was greeted immediately by loud music and bright lights, and saw a big dance floor in the middle of the room, where everyone seemed to be congregating. She smiled; people were definitely her thing. She loved the contact, the interaction, and the attention.

However, the closer she got to the floor, the more she noticed that every person on it had a partner. Two playing cards, a pencil and pen, a Growlithe and a Meowth, a plug and a socket. She suddenly felt her pretty shoulders sag, but just a tiny bit. Maybe this wasn't so bad, maybe there would be other single people to talk to and maybe dance with. So Marina made a beeline for the punch bowl and table full of sweets.

"Hey, I'm Marina, who are you?" She walked up to a friendly-looking boy, who was dressed as a state. He nodded at her and took a drink of his punch.

"I'm Texas, nice to meet you." he smiled, extending one hand to shake hers from the front of his costume. It was colored bright red and bore two white letters on the front, TX. She looked at them a moment before making herself a glass of her own punch. "You look kinda lost. Do you have a date?" he asked. She lit up afterwards.

"No, I don't, and I feel kinda out of place." she said, maybe a bit more enthusiastically than she should have been, considering the situation. "Would you like to show me around?" She clasped her hands beneath her chin and looked up at him hopefully. She fluttered her eyes. She smiled as cute as she could. The guy gave a bit of an apologetic smile.

"I would, but–"

"Texas! Come on, I just got the request in, they'll play our song in a minute and you have to be out here!"

"–I already have a date." he finished lamely as a girl with bright blonde hair tied up in pigtails bounded up to him, dressed as a yellow box. Maybe not a box, per se, because on the front of it were two bright white letters KS. "Sorry."

"Come on, Texas, or you're going to miss it!" She said again. "It's that song about the mermaids and angels, remember that one?"

"Yes Dorthy, I remember." he rolled his eyes. "Sorry Marina, but I'm being summoned, I think." The girl, Kansas, was starting to drag him away towards the floor. "Maybe later?"

"Yeah, maybe." she nodded, but tucked her chin to her chest after she folded her arms, after he disappeared from view in the crowds of people. "Maybe if you ever come out of there. I get the feeling that girl is going to keep you on the floor a lot longer than you think."

She looked up the punch bowl table to see if there were any other singles there, but she saw none. This was going to be a flop of a party after all, it seemed. She sighed, and was about to begin gathering her skirts to head toward the exit when a finger tapped her shoulder gently, almost tentatively. "Marina? Is that you?"

She recognized that voice from somewhere! It was light and friendly, deep and masculine, strong and daring. She spun around and immediately flung her arms around Jimmy, who was standing behind her a little uncertainly. "Jimmy! I don't believe it, you're here too? Do you have a date? I'm so bored, everyone else does but me and I'm not having any fun."

He returned the hug, albeit a bit lightly. Partly in embarrassment, partly because her skirt was so large he had to lean over to even touch her shoulder. "No, I don't have a date, why?" He raised one eyebrow uncertainly. "You're not going to ask me, are you?"

"No, of course not." Marina masked her slight disappointment. "I just want someone to spend the night with that is equally as lonely. And if you don't have a date, then I guess you'd be it, you know?"

Jimmy blushed and leaned back against the table, staring out at the crowd dancing in front of him. Spend the night with? Equally as lonely? She _really_ needed to think of a better way to word that. Marina seemed oblivious to his discomfort though, as always, and stepped back from him to look at his costume better. "What are you dressed as?"

He was wearing a dark red shirt with large, baggy sleeves that came to a fitting cuff at his wrists. It was tucked into some sort of belt around his waist made out of a thick scarf, and his pants stopped just below his knees to give way to tall socks, (socks that looked like tights,) and ended with brass-buckled shoes. There was a crown siting atop his head, askew, in place of his hat, and he had some sort of cape on.

Her heart skipped a beat.

He was wearing a cape.

It was red, stopped at about his middle back, and was trimmed with gaudy white fuzz with black spots. However gaudy it was, though, she couldn't take her eyes off of it. Jimmy rolled his eyes when he saw her gaze stop there.

"I'm a prince." he said, folding his arms. "I figured you of all people would recognize royalty when you saw it." He gestured to her small tiara on top of her own head. "Aristocracy always knows one another by the size of their headwear, you know."

"Then by the look of yours," Marina stifled a giggle, "I think you must be compensating for something."

"That is no way for a princess to speak to her superiors!" He held a hand to his chest, aghast. "Young lady, I shall have to lock you in the dungeon, should you speak with that tongue again." She giggled.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my Prince. A thousand apologies." she bowed her head, but when it came back up, he was grinning that cocky half-grin of his again.

"I told you I didn't want to hear that tongue of yours speak again, young lady!" He pushed his crown back on his head, reaching out an arm for her. "To the dungeons with ye!"

Marina let out a little shriek and took off towards the crowd of people in the dance floor, creating an almost impossible barrier to cross. Especially with her skirt being as large as it was. Marina was smiling through her escape, however, the light airy feeling of happiness expanding in her chest. Finally, some interaction! And from one of her favorite childhood friends, no less.

Unfortunately, as brilliant as her escape plan was, there were three things she didn't count on. One was that her shoes were not the most comfortable in the first place, let alone when trying to make one's escape in them. The second was that her skirt-to-crowd volume ratio was off, and it made it harder for her to weave her way through to lose Jimmy in the first place when he could maneuver through easier than she could. The last was that Jimmy, despite his funny clothing, maneuvered faster than she expected and managed to latch on to her wrist, preventing her from moving any further.

He had just opened his mouth to retort when the music changed abruptly from a funky dance tune to something slow, and all the couples around them got closer together, holding hands and swaying back and forth. Jimmy looked down at her wrist in his hand and then back up at her, his face now nearly as red as his shirt. Marina felt the corners of her mouth curve up a little at his reaction and gently pulled her wrist, him along with it. When he was close enough he dropped her hand and she curtsied, holding her skirt out and away from her and she dipped her head. "May I have the honor of this dance, Your Majesty?" she asked, looking back up at him. He rolled his eyes.

"Marina, stop it. Let's just go back to the punch bowl now." he said quietly, so he wouldn't catch the attention of other couples. But she continued to look up at him with such a gaze, with hope and desire and disappointment all rolled into one. A few more moments of the stare and Jimmy's inner wall broke down, though it turned him red to say it. "Okay, fine, one dance." he mumbled. Her heart soared, and she didn't know why.

He moved cautiously, like testing the waters of a new swimming pool. One hand placed on her waist, the other he held open, wrapping his fingers around her small hand as it slid into his. A shiver went down his back when her other hand nestled on his shoulder, underneath the cape of sorts draped around them. She began their swaying, rocking them back and forth at first, then slowly turning them in a circle like every other couple around them. From just over his shoulder, she could make out the forms of the two people she met earlier, "Texas" and Dorthy, who were dancing just fine themselves, but knocking into other couples with the flat edges of their costumes that protruded from them. She shook her head lightly, a little giggle escaping her, and laid her head on Jimmy's chest.

She could hear his heart beating, and noticed it suddenly began to speed up after a few moments or so. When she lifted her head to see what was the matter, she discovered him looking at her with that determined face of his. The one he wore right before he was about to go into battle with even the teeniest bit of uncertainty in mind. This time, there was lots of uncertainty, however.

"Jimmy?"

"Marina," he stopped their swaying for a moment to take a deep breath. She felt her insides jolt, and her mind went off once more. It was the two of them, and Jimmy would lean down and whisper in her ear "I love you. And I always have." and he'd capture her in a kiss. Or he'd take her hand and lead her out on to the steps outside and say "I think you're prettier than every girl in there, I don't know why I haven't seen you this way before." or, best of all, he wouldn't say a thing, just bend down and kiss her in the most romantic way possible, dipping her back and making everyone else jealous they hadn't thought to do that first with _their_ date. It was the perfect setup! Romantic music, romantic dance, romantic stare, romantic speeding up of the heartbeat, romantic everything!

"I've been missing you a lot more than I say I have been." he said finally. Her dreamy, idealistic heart nearly stopped. "I try to avoid answering your calls when I can." Her stopped heart broke in two. "I try as hard as I can not to think about you." Those two pieces shattered into millions more. "Just talking to you makes my stomach plummet, even at the thought." He began stomping on the pieces of her heart, now laying on the ground. "Because if I answer your calls, I start to think about you, and if I think about you I'll want to call you right back and the process will begin anew."

"Gee, thanks." She dropped her hand from his shoulder, but he caught it, held it there.

"Because when I think about you too much, I start to feel alone, empty. I start missing you too much."

Those words hit her like a million bricks. Him? Miss her? And since when had he been so open about things like this? What had happened to the old Jimmy?

"Even now, I'm here with you, and I'm so completely happy, but I'm still missing you. If that makes any sense." He laughed a little nervously. "Because..." _Because you're not mine._ He trailed off. But even though he hadn't finished his sentence, Marina took a step closer all the same, nodding.

"I understand." She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed, hugging him tightly, almost overcome by his confession. "It didn't hit me until I saw you how much I had missed you either."

"So, um," he cleared his throat nervously, his eyes darting around as if others would snigger at him if he messed up, "I guess it's a bit late, but would you like to be my date to this Halloween party thing? I wouldn't dream of having anyone else, you're the only one for me."

Her breath caught in her throat. Did he really..?

"I've been waiting all night to hear you say that." she smiled. "I'd love nothing more. After all, what couple could be more fitting than a Prince and a Princess?"

**A/N: Meh, not too eventful, but a hell of a lot better than the one before hand. I don't need reviews for this, because who wants to go through the trouble of logging out to give an 'anonymous' review and telling me who you are when you can just say something when you review the one I just posted to tell you this one was up? (Hint hint.)**


	17. QUESTION for You

**A/N: This is a blatant distraction from the awful crap that was the last chapter. It'll be the first to be rewritten, and I'll let you all know when I'm done with it. That being said...**

**Don't try to deny it. This pairing is like an infectious disease, you will love it. The complete contrast between the two is hard to work out, but also very appealing… Damn you for turning me onto this pairing.**

**Prompt: Question  
Pairing: Damion/Paul (Coldcoffeeshipping)  
Warning: Damion likes contests in this, not gym battles. This goes against both the games AND the show, but it had to be like this to work out in the story. Don't judge me!**

Paul was not a people person. He liked his alone time, his quiet time. He liked silence and peace. So why was it that the only person he could stand disrupted this every chance he had? How he could stand a boy that pissed him off on an average of seven times a day was beyond anybody.

First of all, the boy never stopped talking. Never. You would think that people needed to, you know, _breathe_ once in a while, but Damion seemed just fine without it. He could go on an on about the strangest of topics and jump from one to the other like they were all somehow weirdly related. Which, in Paul's mind, they were not, nor could they ever be.

Damion would blather on about some award-winning book about a traveler and his Aipom to a sandcastle he once built with his best friend to a giant tomato stealing his homework in his latest dream to how cool it would be to have a contest as a gym battle to if Paul had ever seen a _real_ legendary pokemon to if he would like some jelly with his toast. Paul answered yes to the last one.

"Strawberry or grape?"

"Grape."

"Why grape?"

"Strawberry is too sweet."

"I love sweet things!"

"I don't."

"But I'm sweet!" Damion argued, leaning backwards into Paul, his hands clasped under his chin in some mock-sickly-sweet thing girls did, batting his eyes. When Paul didn't catch him, he fell back into the grass, hands still clasped beneath his chin, and still staring up at Paul with his wide, shining orange eyes that glittered as he teased his companion. "Don't you like _me_?"

Paul just rolled his eyes at the youth in the grass and heaved an impatient sigh, despite his small urge to smile at Damion's goofy face. "Just give me my toast and let's get going to Hearthome already." Paul then packed up his half of the camp while Damion packed up his.

Secondly, Damion wouldn't leave him alone. Apparently, he saw Paul through some sort of televised event and was so impressed that he wanted to be just like him. Paul accidentally ran into him – literally, – and from then on, Damion never left his side. He would talk to Paul about the weather, battling, and asked him so many personal questions that Paul was surprised he hadn't asked about his bathroom habits and what color boxers he was wearing that day.

It was common knowledge that anyone who didn't talk back to you and didn't answer your questions, especially when clearly aware of your presence, was trying to ignore you. Damion, however, would keep on talking and talking without a care in the world. As the two took the short road to Hearthome, Damion talked animatedly as they walked, about the upcoming contest and how great it would be to dress up again and look fancy in his contest suit.

Paul rolled his eyes; the boy was getting excited over wearing a suit? A scratchy, starchy Piplup suit? It would almost be considered cute, if Paul had been into that sort of thing. But he wasn't, of course, so it was really stupid. Not cute at all, really.

The short time passed and the two entered the central city in Sinnoh, and Paul glanced over at Damion. The boy was looking around in awe at the tall buildings and many people, almost as if he had never seen them before. He always did that, looked and saw things as if seeing them for the first time, appreciating everything, no matter how small or insignificant. Paul watched his face light up on its own every time they entered the city. He shook his head as he watched him run up and ask the man from Hoenn that greeted them _every freaking time_ they got into the city, only to make quick conversation and then scamper off to find the Contest Dome. Or whatever it was called, Paul didn't really care.

The last little fringe of Damion's bright green scarf disappeared around a familiar corner and Paul dutifully followed, debating for the nth time if he should just turn and leave now and leave Damion be. That boy was like a pistol. A cute, clingy, annoying, hyperactive pistol that talked too much.

Paul dragged his feet as he followed the path to the contest center that he knew so well by now. Hearthome Contest Dome was named appropriately, being the center of the city and the third main attraction, aside from the Park and the gym. Today though, there were no people running in and out of the big glass doors once the building came into view. Damion seemed to fail to notice this though, and ran right up to the double doors, making to push them open in one fell swoop.

Reason number three that Paul disliked Damion; the boy had too much energy. He was always wanting to run everywhere, and if he wasn't running, he was talking his energy off and swinging his arms around as if they would make the story come to life somehow. He was constantly in a hurry as well, compared to Paul, who almost lived by the motto "We'll get there when we get there." He never wanted to stop unless it was for food, sleep, or his precious contests. All of that on top of Paul's perma-grumpy attitude just made it that much worse at times. However, the peppy attitude of Damion would sometimes bring him up out of his funk more than it had put him in it in the first place. Damion, in his entirety, annoyed Paul.

Said hyper boy hit the glass doors with arms held straight and locked at the elbows. Paul watched as, almost in slow motion, Damion hit the doors and ricocheted back on the heels of his palms, knocking himself away from the doors with all his force. He fell straight back to the ground, where he landed with a dull thud.

"Why's the door locked?" Damion asked, staring straight ahead of him at the sky. Paul could not believe the absolutely pitiful tone Damion said that in. His orange eyes were a little glazed and his expression looked aghast, as if he could not believe the doors would dare do such a thing to him. He sounded like a puppy that had been swatted many times with a newspaper.

"I imagine it's because they're closed today." Paul said with a strained sigh. He looked down at Damion with the same emotionless face he always wore. "Generally, people lock their doors when this happens."

"What's this?" Damion suddenly jumped to his feet as if he had never been knocked to the ground by a pair of innocent-looking glass doors and pressed his face to the glass, reading over a note that was taped to the inside. Paul shook his head in the way a parent would, exasperated by their child, and roughly brushed off the dirt that had clung to the back of Damion's orange and white striped shirt.

"A coordinator's ball," Damion read off, "tonight. Dress your best and bring a date, the festivities will begin at eight." He spun around and looked at Paul excitedly, eyes dancing. "Paul! A coordinator's ball!"

"Really?" Paul clapped a hand to his cheek. "I totally did not just hear you read that off three seconds ago!" He rolled his eyes and lowered his hand. "Good for you, have a ball." He cringed when Damion laughed at his unintentional pun. Paul turned to leave and started lazily in the direction of the Pokemon Center. Damion reached out a hand to grab his shoulder, but Paul jerked it away on the slightest contact. "And no, I'm not going to help you find a date. This is your contest thing, not mine."

Damon deflated slightly. Paul pretended not to notice, but wondered what was wrong with the boy when he heard a second pair of feet dragging behind his instead of beside him or in front of him. Where was the running? The energy? Not even a skip! He was plodding along, his hands deep within his pockets, His scarf swishing along in time with the opposite step. His head was hanging, and his blonde bangs hanging in his face.

Paul wondered if it was something he said to the boy. He wondered if it was because of his immediate rejection of Damion's unasked question to help him find a date. He heaved a heavy sigh and turned to face Damion, stopping the boy in his tracks. "Look, I'll help you find a date if you really want." he grumbled. "Just stop moping and acting all depressed like that."

"It's okay." Damion said after a moment. He didn't look Paul in the face. "I know who I'm going to ask anyway." He then turned off in a different direction and slumped off. He knew who he was going to ask already? But they didn't go into Hearthome _that_ often! Maybe it was Bebe. That girl was just as fast a talker as Damion, so they got along well, but Paul never imagined them as 'Dance Date' friends.

Not that Paul had thought about Damion being 'Dance Dates' with his friends. Actually, if the topic had ever come up in conversation, Paul saw it more along the lines of him standing off next to the punch bowl in some stiff, scratchy suit and Damion off talking with people, bouncing from one group to the next and wearing the same big smile he always did.

Maybe Damion made some friends at his contests and knew they were going to be in town. Paul wouldn't know, he never went to those things unless he had to. He also wanted to know why he was so curious as to who Damion was going to ask. As he'd thought (and said) before, the boy was too peppy and loud and jumpy and wouldn't leave him alone. That was not exactly the picturesque idea of friendship.

A little more walking took Paul to the Pokemon Center, where he checked the pair of them out a couple rooms, one next to the other. Paul flat out refused to share a room with the kid who latched on to him like a leech and wouldn't let go. As far as he knew, Damion didn't mind the separate room thing anyway. Well, even if he had, Paul still refused to share a room with him. Besides, Damion did have a bit of fun thinking of the name to his room anyway.

At first the name he put the room under just used to be Damion, but one day he really got under Paul's skin and, out of childish spite, put Damon's room under "Annoying Assface" and Damion, being Damion, thought it was hilarious. Paul's names for him ranged between "Fattie" for that one time Damion ate so much that Paul could have sworn it was three times his weight he scarfed down in bread alone to "Mansex" when he was in such a good mood that he was boasting about himself and wondering aloud why he didn't have hoards of women following him, because he was so sexy that if Damion was a woman, he'd do himself. Or even if he was a man, for that matter.

However, most of the names were condescending. Kind and fluffy and riddled with inside jokes was not Paul's type, and not in his nature. So tonight's pick was "Dateless Loser" and when Joy questioned him about it, he shrugged and told her it was his friend's, so if a blonde boy with a green scarf and an orange-striped shirt came in, to make him guess the name and give it to him if he really couldn't think of the answer.

Satisfied with himself, he retreated to his own room and tossed what little luggage he had on the floor, then flopped face-first into the bed. But it was still very early: too early for sleep. Paul groaned. What was he going to do for the rest of the night?

Paul heard footsteps walking around outside, and then a knock at his door. He raised his head off the mattress curiously and saw a shadow showing from under the door. And then a small, folded piece of paper slipped under the door and the shadow disappeared, retreating into the room next to Paul's, and all was silent. So it was Damion who had put the paper there? But why didn't he just march into the room like he usually did? Wasn't he supposed to be asking Bebe to that ball-type thing? That didn't take this short of time.

After a moment on debating whether he should or not, Paul pushed himself up off the mattress and plodded over to the folded piece of paper. It had been folded down to about the size of a gun wrapper, and had a large, bold black question mark on the top of it. He bent to pick it up and soon got frustrated trying to figure out the fancy folding technique Damion used to tuck and shrink the size of the paper down. After a moment, he finally got it without ripping the paper in any way, and opened it to find one sentence in Damion's untidy scrawl.

"I've got a question for you," he mumbled aloud to himself, then paused and rolled his eyes. That boy _always_ had questions! "Will you–" Paul stopped himself. The rest of the sentence completely confounded his expectations. _'will you be my date?'_

Paul wanted to read over the note once more to check and see if he had gotten it right, but he was distracted by something else underneath that. Below the question were three hand-drawn boxes, lopsided and all, each labeled with a "Yes," "No," or "Maybe" option. Paul didn't even bother reading through the note again, he just stared blankly at the page. He, Paul, a respected trainer, had just seriously been asked on a date with a checkbox note. He flung the note across the room, though the effect was lessened because paper does not tend to fly very far when thrown...

Paul fell back into his bed and pushed the heels of his palms into his eyes agitatedly. As much as it bothered him... it _was_ incredibly cute. But a shadow fell over his face after that thought. It was _not_ cute. What had made Damion even _think_ that it was okay to ask Paul on this date anyway? What had possessed Damion to even consider the possibility of Paul saying yes was high enough to ask him in the first place?

Paul rose and snatched the note off the floor, plopping himself down at the desk in the room and rummaging around for something to write with, finally producing a red pen. He scribbled something on the note and left his room for a moment to give Damion a piece of his mind.

Xxxx

Damion was sitting on his bed with his legs crossed, half-paying attention to some TV program and half pulling out his spiky blonde hair in anxiety. He half expected a reply to his note, and half didn't at the same time. At this point, he wasn't sure _what_ Paul would do. But he jumped when he got a knock on his door. There was a shadow poking its way under his door as the person it belonged to stood outside.

It was Paul, back to tell him off about the note, wasn't it? He'd say, "Damion, what the hell were you thinking? This is the last straw, leave me alone for good." in that emotionless voice of his, or yell about how he didn't swing that way and the tension would grow so thick between them that he'd just have to leave in order to get a breath of fresh air. Thoughts like these and more ran circles though his head as he walked towards the door slowly, hand just beginning to stretch out to grab the handle. Just as he reached the knob, something slid under the crack and the shadow disappeared into the room next door, leaving only the note in its wake.

He looked down at the note with a feeling of dread. Maybe it was because he was getting his response from Paul, maybe it was just because he was overreacting, or maybe it was the way that the note was folded looked more like Paul had crumpled the paper up in frustration and then settled for folding it haphazardly normal instead of the crisp, neat folds Damion had. The corners didn't even meet up now, and the paper was less like a square and more like an awkward-looking polygon. The fact that Paul was already an impatient person didn't cross his mind, and that maybe he'd not bother trying to figure out the right way to fold the note back.

He bent and picked it up gently, as if it might explode under his touch if he handled it too roughly. The squiggly part of the question mark on top was scratched out in bright red, leaving the period intact. He wasn't sure what it meant, but for being such an upbeat person, Damion was almost shaking like the plethora of Butterfree in his stomach. He began to unfold the note with two careful fingers, first one flap and then another. His hands were getting sweaty; Did he _want_ to see what smart-ass remark was written on it? Paul was probably laughing at him now, wondering what kind of idiot asked another boy to a dance. But, shaking hands aside, he continued to unfold the note, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. This was it. This was the moment of truth.

He unfolded the halfway crease and the first thing he saw was red ink.

Oh Arceus, red ink.

He quickly shut the note again. Red ink was the bane of his existence. In Trainer's School, his papers positively _bled_ red ink. Red ink always meant something bad. _Always_. Red was the color of blood and pain and everything bad in the world. It didn't even occur to him that maybe Paul just didn't have another pen to write with...

After a moment of concentrated breathing, he gathered up enough courage to lift up a bottom corner. A bright _red_ period (pardon the pun,) stared up at him.

Wait, a period? So Paul had written something? What was he writing? There had been no "Write your answer here" box! His curiosity overpowered his fear and Damion nearly tore the sheet of paper in half in his eagerness and looked at the paper bearing the answer to the single-most important question Damion had ever asked in his young life.

Inside the "Maybe" box there was a bright red check mark, and under that there was just one sentence that made Damion's face break out into a grin as wide as his face.

Underneath the boxes there was the answer, written in messy handwriting, in the bright red pen that didn't bother Damion so much now.

_'As long as I don't have to wear a dress.'_

**A/N: I got asked to Homecoming with a checkbox note. I liked this idea better than the original one I had for the prompt. **

**This is one of my more favorite chapters, I do believe.**


	18. Red RIBBON Festival

"_...tied together with a red ribbon, symbolizing the invisible thread that, as Chinese legend has it, connects soul mates from the time they are born (over time the thread shrinks until the two marry)."_

**A/N: This legend is what came to mind when reading the prompt. I went and looked it up for those of you who aren't aware of this old legend, even though I'm sure it's an old Japanese legend as well.**

**Prompt: Ribbon  
Pairing: Flint/Volkner (Ignitionshipping)  
Warning: Volkner is his usual no-fun self. But then, that's why we have Flint, right? Though, since he's in here, it may end up being kinda cracky...**

From the day they met, Flint and Volkner had always been the best of friends. A little blonde boy in the fourth grade had been sitting all by himself at recess, and Flint had walked up with his hair pulled back into an odd, small ponytail at the top of his head, with a couple little strands curling up in front of his ears, too short to be pulled back. He walked right up and looked down at the boy, hands on his hips, his face set in some sort of serious stare. He wiggled his toes in his flip flops.

"Hey, you." he said. Volkner looked up at him cautiously. It wasn't that he was shy, but that he just liked being by himself. "I felt some inexplicable urge to come talk to you, so here I am." He held out his arms wide, as if opening himself for Volkner's examination. "Talk to me!"

The other boy just looked at him, scanned him up and down, and rolled his eyes at him, and called his ponytail girly. So Flint pushed him backwards into the grass. So Volkner tackled him to the ground and connected a poorly-made little boy fist with his head. So Flint bit down on his hand. The two rolled around in the grass, hitting and biting and kicking and completely staining both their clothes beyond repair. Then, of course, the teacher pulled them off of one another and they were sent to the Principal's office.

So maybe it was more like they had been the best of friends since they had known each other, minus the first day. That was still a long time, considering they were now twenty-one and twenty-two, and had managed to keep their friendship strong, despite their taxing jobs across the biggest expanse of water in the Sinnoh region.

Right now though, Flint was looking for some of his things in the kitchen, hoping he wasn't missing anything for his weekend trip down to Sunyshore. Lucian was sitting at the table, some book or other open in front of his nose. Flint had to wonder how the man could stand it, living with all of them when he was so quiet and calm, how he could still manage to concentrate on his books when there was so much going on. But he managed to do so sanely, which, in all respect, was a very impressive feat.

"Off to visit Volkner again?" he asked from behind his pages. Flint nodded, forgetting that the man couldn't see the wordless gesture.

"Yup. Apparently there's some sort of festival going on, so we thought we'd take a look at it." He spotted his toothbrush lying next to the wood block of knives and swiped it off the counter. "Something to do with ribbons. It sounds girly, but it could be worse, right?"

"The Red Ribbon Festival?" Lucian asked, peeking over the top of his book. When something drew his attention away from his book, it was serious. Flint nodded. "Flint, did you know that's a festival for couples?"

"Really?" Flint cocked his head. "No wonder the poster had a picture of a stick figure couple holding hands on it."

"Red ribbons symbolize unity." Lucian told him. "Essentially, the legend goes that every person is born with an invisible red ribbon that ties them to their significant other, or soul mate. The ribbon gets shorter and shorter until the two are completely bonded, through marriage or something. It's a festival to commemorate this legend, and an excuse for girls to dress up and flirt with every guy they see, really."

"Then I see no problem in Volky and I going together, since we're not 'partners' and we're just friends."

"I dunno," Lucian shot him a teasing stare, "you're giving him a pet name, and you've both been friends for a long time. Besides, it's a festival to bring couples together. Something might happen."

"So then, in theory, if I dragged both you and Aaron along with me to this festival..." Flint trailed off suggestively, waggling his eyebrows at the other man. He turned pink and hid behind his book once more.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Weren't you just heading out so you wouldn't be late anyway? Don't want to keep 'Volky' waiting." Lucian mumbled. Flint stuck out his tongue childishly at the other man, but ran out the doors of the castle and hopped on his Driftblim, hoping to make it to the gym before closing time arrived.

Xxxx

"We're closing up early because of the festival, so you guys can head out now." Volkner sad to the trainers milling about in his gym. One by one they left, the last one a couple of the usual trainers, holding hands and looking at one another shyly. He rolled his eyes. Those two had been sneaking peeks at one another for ages now, and it was about time that someone spoke up about it.

"Yo, Volky!" said a voice from above him, one that made him want to cringe at the volume, the volume it almost always stayed at. "Just in time! You wanna get going?"

"Don't call me Volky, how many times must I tell you that?" he grumbled through gritted teeth. It was beginning to get dark in Sunyshore, but when Flint landed, he seemed to glow with a brightness all his own, despite the twilight. Volkner sometimes wondered how he always seemed so upbeat. Then he reminded himself that Flint lived with four other, exciting people in a castle across the sea that only the most powerful of trainers would challenge. Which made Volkner look like a stupid little kid that was always short-circuiting the house compared to a big kid who drove the cool car and had all the friends, and never messed anything up. Except for the last part, because Flint messed things up often enough.

"Yeah, whatever, you know you like it." his friend teased, calling his Driftblim back. "Now come on, you're going to show me around this festival and tell me what it's like, because I've never seen it before." Before Volkner could stop him, Flint had grabbed his hand and was dragging him down the steps to the ground below, where red and white paper lanterns were beginning to light up the streets and people running game stands were shouting out to customers to give their games a try, to impress their future spouse.

Volkner had seen it all before, the couples walking around hand-in-hand, the little girls chasing boys who were afraid of catching the cooties, older couples who sat an benches, watching the young love blossom around them. There might be three or four boys crowded around one girl, or two girls attached to one boy, each one trying to leave the best impression so he would pick her, or so she would pick him. Volkner had had a date once, and it was with a girl who was only with him to show him off to her friends, really.

"Ooh, a funnel cake stand! Let's get some, Volky." Flint exclaimed, clamping on to the gym leader's hand once more and dragging him to the stand where the vendor laughed at their appearance.

"Five dollars off for couples!" he was announcing. Flint's gears in his head were turning before Volkner could put a stop to them, and he just managed to cover his face with his free hand before Flint marched right up to the man and announced that _they_ were a couple.

"Well, alright then!" The vendor didn't really seem to care that Flint, an esteemed Elite Four member was the partner of Sunyshore's gym leader. Or if he did, he didn't outwardly show it. It seemed that the pair of them holding hands – well, technically, only Flint was holding hands – was enough for him. "With or without strawberry sauce?"

"Which would you prefer, Volky?" Flint asked, his face aglow with another other smile of his. He shrugged through his blush and Flint turned around, ordered the fatty pastry, and took it happily from the man, who was just waving in another couple. "Wow, he was a lot nicer than I expected him to be when I said we were a couple."

"Everyone's in high spirits today." Volkner informed him. "Love is everywhere, everyone's having fun, and there's lots of fun things to do. Who _wouldn't_ be happy?"

"Have you ever had a date to this before?" Flint asked him suddenly. Volkner nodded.

"It didn't go so well. I was only something she was showing off to her friends, so I ditched her when I could and went home. Besides, I've been here before, it's always the same thing."

"You're such a spoilsport. Even if it is the same thing, there's still fun to be had! I'll show you. Come on, there's a little game booth over there, I'll show you how to have fun." Flint took his friend's hand, which Volkner was starting to feel more and more okay with with each time it happened, and pulled him over to a booth where one could throw wooden balls at three bottles in order to win something.

"One game is three bucks." said the guy behind the counter. "Knock all three down and you can get a fun stuffed toy." Behind him hung toys ranging in size from small little Teddiursa to giant Charizard ones. Of course, about the only thing that was life-size was the Luvdisc toy, but Flint wasn't going to worry about that.

"I'll try it!" He slapped down three dollars on the counter and the man took it up happily, handing over to him three little wooden balls. Flint held one up to a light as if examining it. "Are you sure about this? These look pretty small..."

"They're fine, and you get three chances." said the man in a would-be reassuring manner. Flint shrugged, took aim, and fired the ball. It went whizzing toward the bottles, knocked into one of the bottom ones, and sent two of the three toppling, leaving one on the bottom remaining.

"Damn!" Flint kicked his foot. "Alright, set them up again, I'm ready for them this time." Volkner watched as his friend began winding up like a pitcher, then released the ball with such force that the man behind the counter jumped back a little. Again, one bottle remained standing.

"You're not going to get it, they make these games harder so you have to pay more money to win at them." Volkner sighed. "Just come on, we'll find something else to do."

"No!" Flint picked up the final ball and flung it, leaving him with the same result. "I'm going to play this until I win, you know how I am. You have a funnel cake, why don't you eat some of it to pass the time?"

"_You_ bought the funnel cake, not me." Volkner reminded him as Flint slapped another three dollars on the counter. "Come on, you're not seriously going to try it again?"

"I am." Flint took aim and pitched, this time missing all three bottles completely. "And you're going to regret not playing. Look at how much fun I'm having!" He threw the second ball and it only hit the top bottle. "I'm having a blast!" He threw the third and it ricocheted off the back of the stand and hit the bottles, knocking two of them down. "See? Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! So much fun!"

Volkner's face hardly moved at all as Flint went through fifteen dollars total trying to knock down those bottles, and the vendor was smiling at him bemusedly the whole time, drumming his fingers on the counter happily as he earned himself more and more money. A line was starting to form behind Flint, and Volkner was about to tap him on the shoulder to drag him off in the same way Flint had done to him when the final ball of his last three dollars flew through the air and hit the crack between the bottom two bottles, knocking all three down with a final clatter. The line behind him erupted in cheers, and the man behind the counter nodded his approval.

"What'll it be then?" He gestured to the plethora of toys behind him. "Take your pick." Flint paused to ponder a moment while the man readied the next person in line their toss, then pointed to a cluster of stuffed animals with finality. "You want the Poliwag?" the man asked. Flint shook his head.

"No, under all that. What's that yellow thing peeking out there?" he asked. The man pushed a few more toys aside and produced a Luxio, about as long as a yardstick. It was floppy and soft and squeezable when touched, perfect for cuddling with. Flint nodded when the man took it out and when it was handed to him, he turned right around and dropped it into Volkner's arms.

"What?"

"I won it for you." Flint said sternly. "So accept it and let's get going already."

Volkner stared at Flint's retreating back for a moment without moving, a giant stuffed Luxio in one hand and an untouched funnel cake in the other. Flint seemed to already have forgotten about the toy and was bouncing around the main square of the city, talking with people and vendors, laughing and enjoying himself. Volkner tried to remind himself that this was also Flint's first time to the festival, but when he watched the older man kneel down and hand a little pink flower to a passing girl of seven, he more or less got the picture that Flint wasn't just having fun, he was _making_ it.

"Free balloon?" Asked a lady who was passing by Volkner. He looked up at them, and what looked like twenty or so Drifloons stared down at him, though very few were colored purple and yellow like they should have been. The rest were in pinks and reds. Volkner thought for a moment, then nodded.

"Yeah, sure." he answered, holding out his hand that was attached to the arm that was hugging the Luxio to his body for the little string, taking it and letting the little heart dangle at the end. "Thanks."

"Hey Volky, want to go up on the walkway and watch for a while? I'm tired." Flint said, running up to him. Volkner, despite his earlier feelings, smiled lightly and nodded, directing his friend up the stairs and across some of the walkway, to a point in the middle where they could lean over and watch the festivities from above. There were couples spread out along the railing, all looking down into the activity below, holding hands, kissing, and whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. Volkner tried to ignore them all. Without looking at him, he held out the balloon to Flint.

"A lady gave me this, and I thought you might want it." he said. "It's a Drifloon balloon."

"No way, thanks!" Flint took the gift from his friend and tied the string around one of his suspenders so it wouldn't fly away, then took the funnel cake from Volkner and set it on the railing for them both to snack on. "Aw, I knew you were having fun, Volky!"

"I guess." was the half-hearted reply. Flint rolled his eyes.

"So in Volkner-speak, that means yes, right?" He elbowed his friend and a jolt of electricity shot up his arm. Or was that just his imagination? "I knew it, you just need to do the right stuff and be with the right person for it."

Volkner reluctantly took a piece of the funnel cake and popped it in his mouth, waiting to feel the familiar sensation of his arteries becoming blocked, but instead was met with a pleasant taste of powdered sugar and strawberry. He looked down at the paper plate as if he had never seen one before. "Wow, that's pretty good."

"I know, right?" Flint leaned on his elbows on the railing, putting his chin in his hands and sticking another piece of the sweet into his mouth. "I don't know why you ever doubt me."

Volkner looked sideways at his friend. Flint's face was alight from below from all the lights and candles and lanterns and activity from below them, aside from his own internal peppiness. He was smiling widely, showing off many a shiny white tooth. But something was off...

"Flint, you've got a smudge of strawberry on your face." Volkner pointed out to him. Flint stuck his tongue out to try and find it, but he kept missing. "No, over there. Wrong side. A little more left. You missed it again." Volkner was trying to give him instructions, but to no avail. Finally, he just heaved a sigh. "Fine, I'll get it for you."

Seconds before impact, it occurred to Volkner that he could have just reached out and wiped the smudge off with his thumb or something, but it was too late for that now. Flint didn't even have time to prep his escape, just sit there dumbly while Volkner leaned forward and attached his lips to the corner of his mouth, lapping up the small trace of strawberry sauce on his face. When he finally had a grasp on what he was doing, Volkner pulled himself away quickly and turned back to face the crowds of couples milling, wandering, and chasing each other about below him, knowing full well that he had just kissed his best friend, and knowing full well that his face was probably blossoming a rose of a blush onto his face now. Flint didn't move from beside him, but Volkner felt him shake a little when he let out a light chuckle. _Why_ were they standing so close again?

"Well, who knew Lucian would be right?" He heard the man say. "Though, I guess he is the Psychic master..." Volkner turned his head to ask Flint what he was talking about, but didn't get the chance to before the other man pressed in closer, actually meeting his lips with Volkner's instead of going for the corner of his mouth like Volkner had done. The stuffed Luxio dropped from his arms and hit the floor of the walkway, but he didn't particularly care. Nor did he particularly care when Flint's hands slid themselves up through his spiky blonde hair and fist themselves there to pull him closer. Nor did he care when the funnel cake, which had still been perched precariously on the railing go toppling over onto an unsuspecting couple below, who wondered where the flying food had some from. However, he _did_ care when they were interrupted by a lady who was skipping along, tossing red ribbon loops around each couple on the walkway, humming merrily to herself.

"Well," Flint looked down at the ribbon that was circling both he and Volkner's shoulders, "if you say you're not having fun now, I might have to push you off of this balcony here, you know that, right?"

"If you honestly believe I'm not having fun, I'll pull you down with me." Volkner replied, a twinkle of a smile in his eyes. "Come with me, I have the keys to the lighthouse, and there's a much prettier view from up there anyway."

This time, there was no yanking involved when Volkner and Flint's hands connected. A Drifloon balloon bobbed alongside them while one arm clutched a large stuffed Luxio to Volkner's side, the pair of them walking down the walkway toward the lighthouse with a bright red ribbon tied around them both.

**A/N: This turned out better than I expected. I guess I'm working double-time to make up for that fail chapter. I hope I'm the first one to have done this legend, because I haven't read any others so far and I don't want to look like I'm copying this chapter from someone else's.  
**

**I love funnel cake.**

**THE POLL! The grand finale of the poll is fast approaching, so go vote now.  
**


	19. Title SUBMISSION

**A/N: I do really love this pairing, but I can't write it to save my life, and I don't remember coming across many in the recent past. I can't imagine this is going to be too good of a chapter, but here's to hoping, especially after prompt P...**

**Prompt: Submission  
Pairing: Butch/Cassidy (I don't know the official name for this. Shows how much of a fan I am...)**

"Biff, go get the door, will you?"

"Batch, check the oven, I smell something burning."

"Don't worry, Hutch will take good care of it."

Butch was getting tired of it. She was his _partner_ for cripe's sake, and even _she_ couldn't get his name right! It was always 'Hutch' this and 'Botch' that and once, he even heard her refer to him as 'Bitch' or 'Bonnie'! His name wasn't that hard, it was only five letters! Besides, in messing up his name so many times, there had to be at least once when she got it right, right? One would think so, since there are very few variations of his name that would make sense to mix it up with. But no, she'd exhausted every option and then some.

"It's Butch!" He would yell every time, as he went to get the door, or to check the oven, or to take good care of it. But every time she would just laugh as if his opinion didn't matter, as if he was just another stupid Grunt.

He'd seen this before with other partnerships, especially in the case of Jessie and James. Personally, he didn't mind James so much. He was an okay guy. But they had to pretend to hate one another when the girls met, because then the fur would fly. But James had one flaw, and that was that Jessie wore the pants in their partnership, and James was always so submissive to her. He'd bend to her every will, and he often wondered why James put up with her at all. Most partnerships became like that, with one taking charge and the other just going along with it, whether they were the punching bag or not.

Butch did _not_ want that to be him and Cassidy.

Still, after every time he's grumble about her butchering (to pardon the pun) his name, she'd smile lightly to herself. She was getting under his skin, just the way she wanted to. Running away from home to join Team Rocket didn't leave a teenager much time to socialize and learn even the basics of flirting, so all she remembered was little boys picking on her on the playground and later giving her flowers. So, she figured, the same teasing principle would work here, right?

Butch didn't catch on, however. All he knew was that he didn't want to be the underdog in the partnership, and so he began plotting. He waited carefully for the right moment to unleash his master plan on the girl, when she was least expecting it, when the opportunity would arise.

"Bob, would you go and get me a glass of water please? I'm dying over here!" she said from the small little couch in their shared room at the Team headquarters. "Thanks."

He stood up, but didn't head to the little corner kitchen like an obedient puppy, but stepped up and loomed over her, staring down through slitted eyes. "Call me anything other than Butch one more time, I dare you."

Cassidy looked up at him in a would-be bored manner. "Why? What are you going to do if I don't, Ben?" She raised an eyebrow.

"This." Butch grabbed her wrist and pulled her swiftly out of the chair, her book dropping to the carpeted floor softly. Ignoring her squeals of protest, he pulled her forward and latched his arm around her head, so she was now tucked under one arm at her neck. She shrieked and tried to pound him with her first, but missed and only succeeded in connecting with his thigh instead. "This is called a Submission Hold, Cassidy. Say my name and I'll let you go."

"Botch, let me go!" She demanded, but Butch only shook her lightly in response.

"Say my name, Cassandra!"

"What did you call me?" She froze, waiting for an answer and hoping he had not just said what he said.

"I called you Cassandra, Calamity." he said, not missing a beat. "Yeah, sucks when nobody gets your name right, doesn't it?"

"Betch, let me go!" Cassidy, though she was bent double with her head tucked under Butch's arm, pushed into him with all her might, sending them both topping to the floor with a considerably louder thud than her book had previously made. "And my name is Cassidy, damnit!"

"Cavity!" He rolled over onto his side to avoid her body crashing down on his.

"Hatch!" She kicked her leg out, pushed off of the couch, and curled herself up around his arm in order to steady herself.

"Cassanova!" With his other arm, he grabbed on to one of her legs to prevent her from pushing herself up.

"Bitch!" She wrapped her other leg around one of his, her bottom now sticking straight up into the air like a little panty beacon.

"Chastity!" His eyes were distracted momentarily by said panty beacon, and she had just enough of an opening to pop her head out of his arm and spin around, pinning his arms above his head with her hands and sitting on his hips, securely pining him. She stuck out her tongue.

"I win this time, Fred."

"That doesn't even _sound_ the same!" Butch wailed from under her. "How can you get Fred and Butch mixed up?! You know my name, why don't you bother saying it?!"

"Because," Cassidy smiled mischievously down at him, "I know it annoys you. Besides, I don't know why it annoys you so much, Butch. A name is a name, but you're still you, and I don't care one way or the other what your name is, but that it's you and not some other creep."

"You..." He stared up at her, into her eyes, which were twinkling playfully with a sparkle he'd hardly ever seen before. "You said my name right."

"Yes, I did Becky. Don't go getting a swelled head about it." She smiled softly and released his hands, pushing herself off of him. The pair of them stood up, locked eyes for just a moment more, and then Butch proceeded to go off and get her glass of water while she thumbed through her book to find the page she was at again. When he stopped by, he leaned over and planted a little kiss on her cheek, which caused her face to heat up to the color of a Charmander's flame.

"You should say my name correctly more often." he told her as he stood to leave. "It sounds especially nice when you say it."

**A/N: Get it? Submission hold? I bet you thought this was going to be something else, right? I sure fooled you kids, yep.**

**...I'm such a dork.**

**It was shorter than usual, but better than I had anticipated. And you know, etc. etc. **


	20. Over TIME

**A/N: I had originally come up with this pairing as more of a friendship-type fic, but with a bit o' tweaking, I can get it to work as a pairing too! Of course, one thing led to another and now it's a completely different idea. Eh, such is the life of a writer, amirite?**

**Prompt: Time  
Pairing: Aaron/Bugsy (Insectshipping)**

Bugsy had no idea what was in store for him. He was walking along, minding his own business, just like usual, about to fall victim to a very clever trap, if he did say so himself. So he stayed crouched in the tall grass, his eyes and hair blending in perfectly with his surroundings, watching the future gym leader of Azalea town come closer and closer to passing by where he was hiding. A clever little smirk plastered over his face as his victim got three steps closer, then two steps closer, then one step closer...

"Wild AARON attacked!" Aaron leaped out of the tall grass with what he would describe later as the 'agility of a Meowth' but what more or less resembled the 'stumbling of a lame Slowpoke.' He flew through the air, imagining a trumpeting fanfare to be following him as he soared, and almost in slow motion, connected smoothly with Bugsy's waist, securing his arms around his best friend and throwing him to the ground. "Wild AARON used Tackle!"

"Wild BUGSY used Stun Spore!" the other boy shouted suddenly, throwing his hands out to push Aaron back at his shoulders, laughing all through his struggle. "Wild AARON is Paralyzed, he can't move!"

Aaron made to push back at his best friend, but missed entirely and froze, letting out a little bit of shaking to help the effect. "Foe AARON is paralyzed! He can't move!"

Bugsy laughed in triumph and sat on his friend's stomach, his arms folded. "Wild BUGSY used Leech Seed! Foe AARON'S health is sapping!" Aaron began thrashing about under him, trying to get away, but failing miserably. However, one swing of his head brought his large, erect piece of hair swinging up directly into Bugsy's face, who swiped at it like a Persian at a cat toy and shook his head, his eyes tight shut. Apparently, the hair had made a direct hit to the roof of his mouth.

"Foe AARON used Megahorn!" He managed to sit himself up, causing Bugsy to topple over into the grass between Aaron's legs, still swiping at his face. "It's super effective!"

"Bugsy fled using Run Away!" Bugsy managed to scramble to his feet and took off through the trees, and Aaron followed suit, trying to keep close tabs on his friend.

"Not for long!" he laughed, whizzing around a corner and collapsing in front of the forest shrine beside Bugsy, who had fallen over and was breathing heavily, staring up at the sky with a smile on his face. "You'd make a bad pokemon, running away from every battle!"

"Nuh-uh! As soon as I get old enough to have my own pokemon, I'll show you who's boss." he retorted. "I'mma be a gym leader when I grow up, so I hafta be used to hard battles. Gym leaders aren't supposed to lose, ever!" He rolled over on his side and stared over at Aaron. "Will said I can take over the gym when he leaves if I try hard enough and pass Gym Leader school!"

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna be in the Elite Four." Aaron said smugly. "'Cause they're the best ever and nobody would laugh anymore about bug pokemon being lame." He rolled over onto his stomach and nestled his head in his arms. "And I'd be the very first on ever!"

"No, Will is trying to get into the Elite Four, and he specializes in bug pokemon." Bugsy said, turning around to lay his head down on Aaron's back, forming a sort of T with him. "You'd be the second."

"Whatever." Aaron's last word was slightly mumbled and not too audible, because it was almost immediately after he said it that he fell asleep right there, Bugsy asleep with him, right in front of the Forest Guardian Shrine, in the warm, early-spring sunshine.

Xxxx

Bugsy crept around outside, his small hiking boots making little more than a rustle as he tiptoed up behind his friend, not worrying about being seen, for the mist was too thick. Aaron was sitting on his front step, his chin in his hands, staring out into the fog. Bugsy couldn't see his own house through it, and it was right across the street! As he kept closer, his breath became shallower until finally, the right moment struck to unleash his attack!

"Wild Bugsy appeared and used Mist, then tackle! For Aaron was caught off-guard!" Bugsy bounded out of the mist and jumped on Aaron from behind, sending them both toppling into the grass. When they stopped rolling, Bugsy stopped laughing immediately at the look on Aaron's face. He seemed like he was about to cry! Quickly, he pushed himself off Aaron and pulled him to his feet, and even tried to brush the grass stains off of his bright orange shorts. "Aaron! Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit you that hard!"

"No, it's not you," Aaron sniffed, wiping his eye with the back of his hand, "I... I..." He sstopped and ran towards Bugsy, nearly knocking the two of them over with a monstrous hug. "I'm moving away!"

His head stopped. With the mist around them, it seemed as if they were the only two people in the world at that moment. Slowly he backed Aaron away from him and looked him straight in the face. "Are you sure? Moving where?"

"To some new region." he sniffed. "Today! Mom and Dad didn't tell me because they didn't want me to tell you and get you all sad too. They're packing up the moving truck now."

That would explain why Bugsy hadn't seen it when he snuck up. As Aaron pulled him closer toward the big red truck, he began to feel smaller and smaller, as if the world was pressing in around him, trying to make him seem so unimportant that even his best friend could move away and nobody would care. Fifteen minutes and a long, final embrace later as parting, Bugsy could confirm this as he waved Aaron a tearful goodbye from the driveway of the house for sale. He was happy for the mist, because it began to obscure his tears as he ran back home, keeping everyone from seeing.

Xxxx

Ten years had passed since the day he had moved to Sinnoh. Aaron was sitting on his bed, kicking his legs in the air, and staring intently at a photograph he kept on his nightstand. In it there were two kids. One with choppy purple hair had his arm around the shoulders of a boy with green hair and a large cowlick, both wearing identical smiles, wearing identically short shorts, and holding identical bug-catching nets. He heaved a sigh. They hadn't seen each other in years. Would Bugsy even remember him?

"I sense sadness among us." A head with a giant afro attached to it poked into his room. "And I'm sensing right! Aaron, newbie, what's up with you?" Flint walked in without permission, waded through the piles of clothes, comic books, and a myriad of other crap and sat down on Aaron's bed next to him. "Hey, was this you as a kid?"

"Yeah, and my best friend." Aaron answered. "He was the coolest kid ever. And then I moved away, unannounced until the day of, and we haven't seen each other since." Flint wondered briefly why Aaron had said 'he' when the other kid clearly looked like a girl, but let it slide.

"Well, there's no time like the present! Just go back over and say hi, it's the weekend and we're not open now, you now that." He ruffled the boy's hair, but Aaron ducked away and started at Flint intently.

"It's not that simple! I know he's a gym leader now, so he'll have responsibilities! Plus, I can't just waltz in there and be all 'Hey Bugsy, we used to be BFF's, I'm Aaron, remember me?' We moved _two regions_ away from each other, and we've been separated by time _and_ distance! What could we possibly have in common anymore to talk about? It'll all turn awkward!"

"Well," Flint tapped his chin thoughtfully, "I'm no expert, with us practically living next to Sunyshore and all, but I'd think you'd just have to say your name and you two would be all buddy-buddy again." At the glare Aaron gave him, Flint just laughed and rubbed a hand behind his head nervously. "Or, you know, think of something you two used to do that he'd remember right off the bat. Your own little thing, you know?"

"Our own little thing..." Aaron turned back to the photograph for a moment before smacking a fist into his palm. "That's it! Flint, tell Cynthia I'll be back before the weekend's over, I'm going to go visit a friend!"

Xxxx

Aaron stepped off the rail car in Goldenrod City and inhaled a fresh breath of salty air. The coastal city had been one of his favorites to visit as a kid, what with all the action and excitement. But his favorite part was that most of the day would be spent trekking through Ilex forest, with bug pokemon galore to stop and talk to while his parents would have to find a different way around besides the small shortcuts Aaron knew. He only spared one glance around the largest town in the world before taking off down the brick-paved path, running past the beach and people and Daycare center until he was out of the sunshine and in the cool, refreshing shade of the Ilex forest, where the trees blocked out all daylight most of the time they were so thick.

Aaron recognized every tree, though most were bigger than he remembered them. Then again, they _had_ had ten years to grow without him watching. A feeling erupted in his chest, one that, despite his excitement at finally getting to see his old friend again, made his heart sing with euphoria. He wasn't just in a forest, he was _home_.

He began whistling a little tune to himself as he strolled, hands in his pockets, taking in the sights. A Butterfree peeked around one of the massive trunks at him and he smiled and waved, and the pokemon fluttered happily at him before whizzing off. He laughed a little. If memory served, there would be a little lake just around the corner here...

He stopped dead in his tracks, then backed up and hid behind a tree. Out across the small lake was a large tree that, standing under it, was Bugsy. His heart gave a small, involuntary flutter and his fists clenched. Bugsy was there! Right in front of him! And suddenly, he was getting the nerves. What if he didn't think it was funny? What if he'd grown out of it? What if he didn't remember Aaron at all? But something in his gut, a persistent and brave attitude that he had acquired since joining the Elite Four, told him to buck up and do it anyway, so he did.

Quietly, he slunk out from behind the tree and darted over to another tree, one that was lining the lake, and crept behind each trunk, making his slow way over to Bugsy, who had then decided to sit under his tree and watch the lake. Aaron had just managed to make it to the small clearing that Bugsy was in and was just about to pop out of the trees when the other man stood up, brushed off the seat of his pants, and turned to leave. His heart leaped to his throat. _Do it now, or you'll never get the chance!_

Aaron took a deep breath and just as Bugsy looked up from straightening his shirt, Aaron came flying out of the trees. "Wild AARON appeared! He used Tackle!" And on that note, Aaron ran headlong into his friend, mussing up the fruitlessly-straightened shirt and sending them both flying, just managing to stop before they hit the water.

"Aaron?" Bugsy managed to wheeze in disbelief, the breath knocked out of him completely. "Aaron, is that actually you?"

"Wild AARON used Stun Spore!" He gave a smirk to Bugsy, one for greeting and for bragging. "Foe BUGSY is paralyzed! He may be unable to move!"

"Foe BUGSY is no longer paralyzed!" he replied suddenly, taking on a smirk that mirrored Aaron's. "BUGSY used Revenge!" He managed to push Aaron off of him and roll over on top of him, pinning him to the ground by straddling his waist. His hands were raised, fingers poised, about to launch the deadliest of attacks known to man...

"BUGSY is about to use Tickle! Does foe AARON have any last words?"

"No! No, anything but that!" Aaron was dreadfully ticklish. "Um, uh," He began floundering, looking anywhere for the right attack to counter with . "Wild AARON used Attract! Foe BUGSY became immobilized by love!"

"That only works on the opposite gender!" he retorted, but Aaron shook his head.

"Well, you look enough like a girl, anyway. Maybe you should cut your hair?"

"That's it!" Bugsy let out a menacing laugh that made Aaron wonder if his comeback had been worth it. "Since BUGSY has been attracted, BUGSY used Bite!" He went in, open-mouthed, biting down (gently, mind you,) on a sensitive spot on Aaron's neck he remembered to be particularly ticklish, and the boy gasped.

"H-hey now, no fair!" Aaron whined beneath him. Bugsy failed to see the flush filling up his cheeks. He'd been back for, what, all of two minutes, and Bugsy was biting him? And it wasn't even the real kind of bite, either! Almost like...

"Wild AARON used Lick to counter!" he said suddenly, grabbing Bugsy's hands and slobbing up his palm in an attempt to get the gym leader off of him, but Bugsy only froze as Aaron finished with a little flourish of his tongue on Bugsy's middle finger tip. Of course, Aaron had all of his attention now. He felt his chest heaving and, with every breath, his face got redder and redder, and he could have sworn Bugsy's was doing the same.

_Didn't I tell Flint this was going to be awkward?_ he thought to himself, but took a deep breath and smiled. "Hey, Bugsy, long time no see." _Well, he remembered our little game. But if we're both still the same, what's so different about this time?_ Aaron felt another pang in his chest and inwardly groaned. _Oh yeah, hormones come with time, don't they?_

"So, um, I thought I'd drop by and see my best friend again." He said, fishing for the right words to change around the conversation, and to hopefully distract Bugsy from his blush. "Surprise!"

**A/N: Oh, how awkward those pokemon moves can turn out to be, right? Many thanks to Blake Wilson for sparking my muse for this after I'd tried three times before to make this prompt possible.**

**This is supposed to have a blunt and awkward ending, I promise. It's more fitting than some sappy one, I think. **

**...I just got done watching AARON'S EPISODE FTW and his voice is sexy. I mean, it's like the Goddamn Batman of pokemon, alright? You can't deny it at all. **


	21. The Most UNIMPORTANT Part

**A/N: After this prompt has gone under five different pairing possibilities, I finally got one to stick as I was writing the last chapter. Many thanks again to Blake Wilson for giving me the idea. **

**I need to really kick some butt here if I want to finish this thing on time.**

**Prompt: Unimportant****  
Pairing: Jupiter/Damion (I don't know the name for this one either... But I hear his official name is now Barry. But I kinda like Damion more.)  
Warning: This isn't humorous like my other chapters. In fact, it's a bit more of a downer, I guess you could say. I'm not that fond of it, but I don't think it's terrible. Just not a favorite of mine. **

She just stood there, leaning against a tree, and watched him shiver in nothing but his normal clothes and thick, green scarf, which seemed to be the only thing he had that was appropriate for the cold weather.

"Come on, you're freezing to death, you're just a little kid, and you're taking on me, an esteemed member of Team Galactic all by yourself! Do you honestly think the odds are in your favor, kid?" Jupiter mocked, happy that her own uniform was pleasantly insulated. "You should save yourself the trouble and give it up now, and just let me take Uxie like a good little boy."

"N-no! I'll n-never back down! I-it's my job to protect the p-pokemon, and as a trainer, I'm g-g-going to do whatever it t-takes!" The boy's blonde hair wasn't moving in the wind, but his clothes sure were, and they were whipping around him like a Buizel heading downstream. The thin, cotton fabric wasn't doing much to block it, either. He was holding his arms as if his entire torso would pop off if he let go. His lips were turning slightly blue. But still he glared on, standing firmly between she and the lake cavern.

"You're a moron, you know that?" she took a step toward him, feeling her boot smush the snow beneath it. "Mmmm, these boots sure are warm. I'd sure hate to be wearing jeans in weather like this, seeing as how they soak up all the snow around them."

On cue, his knees knocked together and he lost his balance a little, though just managing to find it in time to shoot another glare at her. If her suit wouldn't have been insulated with the latest Cyrus technology, Jupiter would have been entirely warm from that laser stare the boy was giving her. "What's your name anyway, stupid one?"

"Wouldn't you like to kn-know?" he spat. "Why? So you can come b-back and get revenge wh-when I win? When my b-best friends win?" He kicked some snow at her, but it was blown away by the wind before it had any chance to reach her. "I th-think not!"

"Whatever, kid." Jupiter said, laying a hand to his forehead and pushing him aside to stop by the shoreline. "I have a job to do, so if you'll excuse me." She threw out a pokeball and a Floatzel came out, sitting in the water patiently and waiting for me to hop on. She stepped down onto its back and just as he started moving, the kid came out of nowhere and latched onto her, thinking it was cool of him to hitch a ride or something. "Hey, get off of me!"

"No!" He tightened his grip and hooked his legs around her waist. "It's my j-job to protect pokemon!"

"We're _both_ going to sink and fail at our jobs if you stay on this Floatzel, and I think that in light of these events, you at least let me do mine and then only one of us has to lose! Capiche?"

"No!" Jupiter and the boy were already halfway across the lake by now anyway, but she still wobbled, and she felt Floatzel getting tired under them. She hoped against hope that it would make it to the cavern on time before they _both_ fell into the icy water and were swallowed up. She mentally apologized to Floatzel for this, he wasn't made to carry two people, especially when one of them seemed to be unable to _stop moving_...

She gave a particularly frightening wobble and, on that last note, took a mighty leap off of her pokemon, praying to whatever higher being there was up there that they wouldn't both go toppling into that freezing lake. Her suit may have been insulated, but nothing could withstand the freezing, dark depths of lake Acuity, even her suit.

The boy shouted and held on tighter. Jupiter shouted and swung her arms in circles as she landed with one foot on the little lake island, the other swinging out into oblivion. The wind howled and she teetered, trying to counter for the weight the boy added to her back, but it was useless, trying to fight against the beating winds and the extra weight. Slowly, she felt herself falling...

"What?" Jupiter opened her eyes at the boy's shocked noise and saw the island cave, clear as day, right in front of her, not looking at it from the water's level. She turned quickly and spotted Floatzel, who was pulling himself up onto the bank, looking tired, but very proud of himself. She pulled out a pokeball and returned him, kissed it once, in thanks, then letting him have a good night's rest. She brushed off the front of her uniform and looked up at the giant rock formation above her, her eyes glittering. She was here, finally, after all of their efforts...

"You're not going any f-f-farther!" he stuttered, but that was probably because of the cold. "Y-you're not allowed, I t-told you s-so!" His feet were spread shoulder-width apart, and his arms were no longer hugging his body, but jutted on account of his fists resting firmly on his hips. "I'll b-battle you!"

She was about to respond, but something twanged inside her. Maybe it was because she had almost just lost her life to the menacing lake waters, maybe she was still a little soft from seeing Floatzel in his condition, and maybe she was just losing her touch as a commander, but she looked at the boy as if really seeing him for the first time. He wasn't too much younger than her, and he had that same, hard look in his orange eyes that she had when she was first starting out. Orange eyes that danced like a signal flame, even in this wasteland of a snowstorm. He was only in a short-sleeved, orange-striped shirt, and his thin pants did nothing to stop the wind from biting at his skin every way it could.

She sighed in defeat and scolded herself for breaking down so easily to a kid like him, especially considering how annoying he was. "Come on, get in here." She grumbled, grabbing his wrist. "You'll catch your death out here, and I'm not going to be pegged as a murderer. A thief maybe, but not a murderer."

"Hey, let go of me!" he protested, trying to push her hand off, but Jupiter, being the top-field commander Team Galactic had to offer, didn't waver with her vicegrip until they were well inside the cavern in the island, leaving the biting wind and snow behind them. She ignored the voice in the back of her mind protesting when she tossed him carelessly to the floor by the entrance, and looked down at him menacingly with a bit of a glare.

"You're going to sit there and let me do my job without a fight, got it?" she snarled. The blonde boy looked up at her with glazed eyes, and thought she saw a tiny bit of a tear in his eye before he lowered his head in defeat. Suddenly, she didn't feel so gung-ho to continue.

"I don't know why I b-bother." he said, softer than the snow falling outside. "I can't even b-beat my own best f-friend, what makes me think I can stand up to a c-commander of Team Galactic?" He hugged his arms to himself and brought his knees up to his chin. "I'm unimportant. I can't even save a legendary being! I'm not even worthy of being a trainer anymore."

Her disposition was completely deflated. He was so pathetic! Not the obnoxious kind, but the sad kind that made her want to kneel down and hug him around the shoulders and tell him he was wrong and that he wasn't unimportant. But of course, she wouldn't do that, she was a Galactic commander, after all, and she had a certain image to keep up, right?

The boy sniffed.

Jupiter's shoulders sagged.

He curled into a tighter ball.

She gritted her teeth.

He raised a hand to wipe away something on his face.

She finally knelt down in front of him, cursing herself for being a damn pansy.

"You're not unimportant." she said firmly, reaching out and putting a hand on each shoulder. "If you were, would you be here right now?" He looked up at her and locked his eyes with hers for a moment. Their flame had dwindled and was nothing more than a tiny, glowing ember anymore, all light gone. "No, you wouldn't. I can't think of a single trainer that would chance their life in order to stop someone like you did, especially up here at Lake Acuity."

He sniffed again. "You're just making that up."

"I'm not!" She took her hands off his shoulders to put them defiantly on her hips for a moment, and she thought she saw a flicker of a smile. "Commanders of Team Galactic don't lie, and they especially don't try to make their enemies feel better, so that in itself is cause to feel important." This time, she did see a smile, though it was a small one, appear on his face.

"Really?"

"Yes, really, I already told you." She put both her hands to his cheeks and shook his head a little, playfully. "Besides, think about this. Uxie is the Being of Knowledge, right? I bet he already knows about me coming here, and about what is going to happen after all is said and done. How much do you want to bet he doesn't protest at all when I send out my pokeball?"

She rose to her feet, taking a deep breath before striding into the cave, shoulders back, head set. She was a woman on a mission.

She heard the boy following close behind, jogging to catch up to her long strides. When the cave reached the massive room in the middle, Jupiter was surprised to find that she didn't need a light at all, that the cave seemed to glow with an energy all its own. And there in the middle hovered the sleeping pokemon Uxie, eyes shut, though they saw everything regardless. She knew it could see right through her brave façade, but she wasn't worrying about that. The blonde boy stopped in the doorway to watch from afar.

"Uxie!" Jupiter barked, and she saw the pokemon stir at its name. "Uxie, Being of Knowledge, I know you know exactly what is going to happen next, don't you?" She pulled a specially-made Galactic ball out of her pocket, almost equal in strength to a Master Ball. It was another of Cyrus's inventions. "So are you going to go down with a fight or in the easiest way possible?"

The pokemon yawned and covered its mouth with one paw, then turned its head her way and nodded. She held out the ball, understanding the nod to mean the latter, and watched with bailed breath for several long, tense moments until Uxie pressed the small button at the front of the ball. The boy's eyes doubled in size when he saw. "No! You know you'd win if you put up a fight! How can you do that?! Don't just give up! What's that going to accomplish?"

It was too late by that time, but she saw that as the pokemon began fading away into the ball, it gave a little smile and a nod in his direction, and that made Jupiter a little unnerved. Something bad was going to happen to Team Galactic...

In an instant, the boy was on his feet and dashed towards her, banging his fists against whatever surface of her he could find. "Why did you do that?! He was the guardian of the lake! Something bad is going to happen to all of us if you take him away and disturb the balance! You can't do this! Let him go immediately!"

She watched him as he continued to pound at her not saying a word and continuing to look down at him, emotionless, until his blows became weaker and weaker until he completely collapsed into her chest, silently sobbing. She wasn't quite sure why she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him closer when he had just tried to beat her with his own fists, or why she planted a big fat kiss on his head to stop his tears, or why she almost felt as sad as he did when the pokemon disappeared into his ball, but she was positive that even though he had been a nuisance to her from the start of her mission, him being here was probably the most important part of the entire thing.

**A/N: OH MY GAWD I REACHED 100 REVIEWS.  
****THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE.  
I AM ABUSING THE CAPSLOCK KEY. **

**But srsly u gaiz. I did it. I'm so happy I could... um... do some sort of very happy activity! I'm so happy I don't know what happy activity I should do! I'll just do them all to be safe. **

**This is my personal thank you to each and every one of you, at this moment, that has reviewed and made this whole "Breaking 100+ comments" thing possible. For this, at the end of the contest when this is all judged, I'll have an extra chapter planned, I think. It's still in the planning stages, but I think I can get it to work, because I love you guys and you deserve it. **

**But it has to be at the end of the contest because I don't want to break the rules.**


	22. Must be VIRGIN

**A/N: So I pinched a nerve in swim practice the morning I posted the last chapter, and my shoulder/back/neck on the left side of my body has been KILLING me. **

**After last chapter, I wanted something more... light and airy and happy. I think, for a chapter with Paul in it, this is pretty good. I had an idea that would have been more original, but I decided that I wanted to have fun. **

**Prompt: Virgin  
Pairing: Dawn/Paul (Ikariskipping, I believe it's called.)  
Warning: Look at the prompt. You can't tell me this isn't going to end badly.**

"I think you're lying to me."

"I think you're too nosy."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't want to have to explain it again, Paul!"

Dawn folded her arms in front of her chest and huffed, looking the other way. Paul sat beside from her, his arms folded on the countertop. If one knew Paul well enough, they would see a bit of a morbid curiosity on his face, but to the untrained eye, it still held the same, bored scowl.

"You're cracking."

"I don't have any reason to crack, I'm telling the truth!"

He watched her cheeks heat up even more. She was starting to match the pink of her skirt. That temptingly short skirt...

"Dawn, seriously. You're nineteen. You can't tell me you _haven't_ had sex by now."

"I want a strawberry daiquiri, virgin please." She said to the bartender when he gave Paul a strange glance. Under the counter, she crossed her legs primly at the knees as she sat on her barstool. Paul made doubly sure not to look that way. The only way that skirt could be so short was that she hadn't bought a different one since she was twelve. That had to be the only explanation.

"You're avoiding the conversation."

"I'm getting a drink, and I'm not avoiding anything!" she snapped. The man appeared with a glass, a fat strawberry sticking off the rim. Dawn nearly began to inhale the beverage as soon as it was set down in front of her, and Paul noticed immediately that it was to occupy her mouth with something else to think about.

"Dawn, you're blushing. You're avoiding conversation, and you're wearing a skirt that's about the same length as the width of a piece of paper. You'd been traveling around with two other guys for over two years, and your other two best friends are also guys. There is not a single way on Arceus's green planet that you are a virgin, just admit it."

He could tell from her face that she was trying very had not to throw her drink all over him, as well as stop herself from gulping down the rest of it at once so she could protest her answer. She was totally cracking, and he was loving it.

"Who was it? Brock? Lucas?" Paul stirred the ice around in his own glass of water. He wasn't in to sweet things, and water was the only non-alcoholic beverage the bar had to offer. Dawn nearly spit out what was in her mouth in shock.

"Ugh! Even if I _had_ done...that," she blushed before the word even made its way past her lips, "Brock would _never_ make the list! He's like, ten years older than me!" Paul almost laughed at the look on her face and shrugged.

"With age comes experience." he reasoned. Her face deepened in color to almost match her scarf now. "Besides, he hits on pretty much ever girl anyway, so maybe you were one of the first he nailed?"

"Stop it." she muttered. "You're disgusting."

"So how far _have_ you gone, then? If you're not a virgin, like your lies say." He rested one elbow on the bar and stared at her, prompting an answer. She took another gulp of her daiquiri.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because is the only reason I need to have." He smirked. "So come on, spit it out. I'll tell you if you tell me."

"Who says I want to know about your experiences with other women?"

"You do, you know you do." he taunted. "Girls live for this kind of stuff."

Dawn sighed in defeat, nearly slumping over the bar. When she raised her head, she was darker than any blush Paul had seen before. "Not as far as sex, but far enough." she mumbled.

"Like, have you actually touched–"

"Ew no!" Dawn sat straight up and stuck out her tongue. "Of course not! That's just groty."

"It's a penis. It won't hurt you." Paul coaxed, thoroughly entertained by her reaction. "It's not gross, and it even waves hello when it's happy! Nothing to be afraid of."

"Ew! Just shut up, alright? I don't want to know about the functions of a... a..."

"Say it with me. Penis. P-E-N-I-S." Paul spelled it slowly for her, and the bartender gave him an even weirder look, as did one of the couples sitting beside them. "It's not hard. Well, maybe, depending on–"

"Stop." Dawn stood up, pressing her palms to the counter. "Stop right there, I don't want to hear it. In fact, I'm kind of regretting ever deciding to come to this club in the first place. If I had known you were going to be here, I'd have stayed home." She poked him in the chest with one extended pointer finger. "And you know what? I bet you only want to know what I've done so you can try and humiliate me and make me look stupid just like you have with everyone else you know." She gritted her teeth. "You make me so mad sometimes, I don't know why I put up with you!" Dawn turned on her heel and stomped out of the bar, her skirt swishing erratically behind her with every step. Paul watched her go with a sort of sinking feeling in his gut. He hadn't meant to make her mad, just rile her up a little. Apparently she couldn't take a joke.

He slapped some money down on the counter to pay for her drink, (she had better have appreciated that!) and grabbed up her half-drank daiquiri, then got up and made his own way to the exit. Where had she gone off to now? Paul heard the stomping of rubber-soled boots off to his left and he turned that way, taking long strides in order to catch up to Dawn, who was muttering furiously to herself about stupid boys not getting the picture.

"Hey." Paul fell in step beside her and Dawn jumped a moment before turning away, her nose in the air. "Dawn, you left your drink at the bar."

Dawn snatched it from his hand without saying a thing. He sighed.

"Come on, I was kidding. You know, joking around. I know you have a sense of humor in there somewhere." He could hardly believe he was hearing himself. What was he doing? Was he trying to make up for his behavior in the bar? He, Paul?

But, he reasoned with himself, it wasn't apologizing.

"Well, maybe we have different senses of humor then." she huffed. "Because I didn't think it was funny at all."

Paul hated himself. "Fine, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you." He was apologizing. To a girl no less! And even worse, Dawn! He must remind himself to dunk his head in a bucket of ice water when he got home. "I got a little carried away."

"Damn straight you did." She scolded. "But since you apologized, I guess I'll forgive you. After all, it's not every day that someone receives an apology from Paul!" She giggled, and he felt his stomach drop. She was forgiving him? Just like that?

Dawn took another big gulp of her drink and not a second after it, nearly dropped the glass. Her eyes shut tight and her face contorted. Paul's hand immediately flew to her shoulder to support her. "Dawn! Are you okay?"

"I'm...fine." she squeaked out. "It's...it's just a brain...freeze..." she shook her head as if that would be enough to clear it. Paul sighed. She was fine.

"Just press your tongue to the roof of your mouth." he drawled. "That helps."

"But my tongue is cold!" she squeaked again. Paul looked at her, and a little window of opportunity opened right in front of him. Later on, he'd blame that skirt. That stupid little short skirt that had tempted him all night was the cause of his later actions.

"Mine isn't though." he answered. Dawn didn't have a moment to respond before Paul pulled her in to him by her shoulders and pressed his lips to hers in probably the roughest kiss she had had to date. But it wasn't going to end there.

Paul felt her body go rigid under his grip, but he tried to ignore it. What was shocking him, though, was that her hands, which were balled into fists, were resting against his chest, but she wasn't pushing, or even attempting to. Taking it as a good sign, he continued, opening his lips just a little to push against hers with his tongue, asking for entrance.

Another shock, she complied. Paul agreed, her tongue _was_ mighty cold, but she tasted sweet, exactly like her drink. Like strawberries and sugar. He probably held the kiss longer than he should have, but he didn't mind as much as he should have, oddly enough.

"What–" Dawn started when they pulled away, staring up at Paul through half-lidded, dreamy eyes, "what... was that for?!" She quickly gathered herself up again, changing her stare to a glare in the blink of an eye. "Why would you do that?!"

"You said yourself that your tongue was too cold to stop your brain freeze, so I helped you out a little." he shrugged. "You can thank me later."

"I could have slapped you five times just then!" she continued, folding her arms. He saw that the drink was still in her hand, that it had somehow managed to survive all of that. He folded his own arms in return.

"And I could have groped you five times just then." he answered with a pointed glance at her skirt. She blushed. "But the point is, we didn't. It has to mean something, doesn't it?"

"I..." Dawn looked around, anywhere but his gaze would do. "I... I blame it on my daiquiri." she said finally. "The alcohol is affecting my judgment."

He raised one eyebrow. "You ordered a virgin daiquiri, remember?"

**A/N: ****CHAPTER P HAS BEEN UPDATED WITH SOMETHING BETTER, SO YOU HAVE TO GO READ IT.****  
Ahaha, Trigun. One of the few animes worth watching anymore. **

**I think this more than made up for last chapter in humor, don't you?  
**


	23. A WORTHLESS Life

**A/N: This was originally going to be something different, but I changed it at the last minute, because I figured nobody would be expecting a pokemon/pokemon pairing. This isn't going to be very easy, I can already tell. **

**I also won't be replying to any of my reviews right now, as I have to get these chapters done first. I'll reply when I finish up Y, since it's my last one to write.**

**Prompt: Worthless****  
Pairing: Feebas/Magikarp (Criticizedshipping)  
Warning: Fail chapter will be fail. I've never even ATTEMPTED to write something from a pokemon perspective, so this will be interesting to try.  
**

The plants have all gone and therefore we must move forward. Forward, up the stream, to the place where we come from, to the place where all of us come from.

It's a long and difficult journey. Often, we stop to eat, but the plants are gone here, too. We stop at another place, and they're gone there as well. A Carvanha comes to get us and we scatter, hiding against the cool rocks at the bottom, letting the current drift us forward. When the Carvanha's gone, we continue on.

The rocks feel good as they scrape across my belly. Some of the others in the school don't like me to float so close to the surface, with them; I sift in the sand on the riverbed. Others dart past, some like me, some not. Pink Shellos and the Whiscash and the slinky Corphish dart past, going about their business. It's calm and quiet as I stay on the riverbed, far from the surface and the darting light.

The sand under me becomes coarser. I don't complain, just move a little higher, avoiding the sharp rocks protruding from the bottom. The riverbanks begin to widen, and suddenly they aren't there at all. A vast emptiness is open before us. We expand from our compacted group to swim more freely. The water feels different to me. Lighter. Less calm. More alive. We are where we're supposed to be.

Corsola and Finneon play around beneath us, swimming around one another, playing. When was the last time we stopped to play? I can't remember. I know we did once, maybe twice, but that was back then. Back then doesn't matter, because it can't be reached again. Only forward.

Farther out we swim deeper, so we can see the bottom. The water isn't as clear as our river, but everything is brighter. Strange plants I've never seen, other creatures in brighter colors, new currents to sway things around. My spirit lifts when I see it, I almost wish I could stay here, without the school. Almost.

We stop somewhere, somewhere familiar. This is not for food, though. This is for something different, something bigger than food. For rebuilding the population. We do this every year. I sink to the bottom, unnoticed. I don't take part in the mating rituals, I'm never picked anyway, only the best females are.

Our school is swarmed by one twice our size, glittering in orange and yellow. The water above me is dancing with Magikarp and Feebas. Our males are sinking to the bottom with me, avoiding the dances. A few females as well, ones that prefer to stay out of the way, the quieter ones, or the older ones. Those that aren't selected will sink down with us while the rest of them scatter off for an hour or so to complete it, and only then can we head back upstream again, back to where there is no food. Where the rocks on the bottom are smooth and the action is minimal, where everything is peaceful and quiet once more.

Something brushes my side, then my other. When it passes in front of me, I see more golden scales of a Magikarp swimming in circles around me. He makes another pass. And then another. Three passes? But that's the beginning of...

The others around be back away and the Magikarp makes one final pass and stops in front of me, waiting.

Waiting for me to return the circles.

What do I do?

Tentatively I swim forward and make a half-arc around him. The others in my school are staring. Why? I don't understand. But I feel lighter than the water. I finish my circle and do another. Then another. I slow down, afraid something is going to happen. This is too new, too different. Something feels bubbly about me. I can't tell if it's good or bad.

Third circle completed, I swim back and watch. We stare for a few moments more. What happens now? With the flick of a fin, he turns around. He swims away, and I hang back. I'm unsure. I want to be back in my riverbed, in the quiet. Another in my pack nudges me forward. I was chosen, why wouldn't I go? But I cannot tell if it's excitement or nerves. I suspect a little of both.

I swim forward, catching up to Magikarp, swimming just behind him. He glances back to make sure I'm following, then swims out, past another bed of Corsola, of more colorful creatures. And then over a cropping of rocks too tall to usually bother swimming over. But just over the top of it, he stops and glances back at me, waiting for me to catch up. I feel so alone, without my school. But at the top of the rocks, I abandon the feeling and dive straight down the other side.

Food!

Magikarp has lead me straight to an entire bed of my food! He swims lazily behind me as I eat. I eat and eat. The only food I have anymore is what has been picked through by the rest of my school, but now it's all for me. I spare one glance back at the Magikarp in thanks and try to continue eating, but my stomach feels a little funny now. I somewhere assume it is from eating so much food in one sitting, where I have not been able to for such a long time.

Food feels good in my belly. A satisfying weight, a comfortable feeling of fullness. I am finally happy, happier than I have been since the shortage of our food has struck. The prospect of mating now does not seem so bad, maybe even a little exciting. I swim forward, but I suddenly stop. It's like I can't go any farther.

There's a blinding light completely surrounding me. Or maybe it _is_ me? I feel as though a pair of Octillery are playing tug-o-war with me from two different ends. I feel like I'm caught under a rock back in the river, unable to move by feeling everything rush past me. And when it stops, I have to blink a couple times to stop seeing dots in my eyes. The plants tickle my tummy when I float gently down to the ground.

Float gently down?

I look down in shock. What were once brown scales are white, and now a fan-shaped pink tail. My body is long and thin when it used to be small and flat! I'm a Milotic, instead of a Feebas!

Magikarp swims in circles around me, confused. He's trying to perform the mating dance again because he knows it is me, but he doesn't know where I have gone. I feel sad, I realize, knowing I have let this poor pokemon down. He was just like I was, the runt of the school. The school! I have to swim back and tell them!

I sing a final, parting "I'm sorry" in my new voice and propel myself forward, back the way I came. Over an expanse of Corsola, over various, brightly-colored plants, over other pokemon playing, until I get to the grotto where my school is waiting for the others to return.

The remaining ones look at me in awe, and I forget I am a Milotic for a moment. So many Feebas! I never realized how many of us there were, and most are off mating right now! All the ones that prevented me from doing so these years, the ones that don't like me. The ones sitting, now, hardly recognize me at all. They all swim a couple circles around me, up my body, and I sing out a note. It isn't quite happiness, though. I know that when the others come back, they will all return to the river, and I will stay here. Milotic aren't meant for the river, only small fish.

The Magikarp is a small fish...

Without warning, I propel myself forward again, and away, ignoring looks from others. Milotic aren't uncommon, are they? I don't remember seeing them before, but I did know about them. Or did I?

I stop, twirl my new lengthy body around a rock that climbs from the surface to the bottom of the ocean and climb on to it instinctively. The sun! I've never felt the sun before. I've never been above the surface. I wonder if Magikarp has.

I try not to think about the poor little fish. Mating rituals are performed once a year, and his year, what looks like his first year, has been a waste. His mate has evolved and swam off without him. But a Magikarp can't mate with a Milotic, they're too different. I feel sad about recognizing this fact as well. I miss him already. The one Magikarp that has picked me. The one and only to ever pick me.

Milotic mate for life, I have been told that too. But I know Magikarp don't. They mate every year with a different Feebas when we make our travels from the river to the ocean and back again. There is no way it would work out.

I blame my school for pushing me back when I should have swam forward. I blame my school for never letting me feel the warm sun, only the cool rocks on my belly. I blame my school for making me evolve past my time because they feel they deserve to eat first. I blame my school for a worthless life I have lived.

And now I am not even allowed to mate with the only one who has ever shown me any kindness since I was old enough to swim without a mother.

I make a sad note rise from my throat, a pathetic, low musical note that echoes over the vast ocean around me. Now I'm alone. Milotic don't travel in schools, they are loners. But what am I without my school? I don't know how to lead, I know how to follow. And following has gotten me nowhere but here. Alone. Another mournful note escapes me, unintentionally. Were it not for my sadness, I would find my new voice quite beautiful.

The water behind me explodes, sending drops of it everywhere, over my dry scales, splashing everywhere within a radius of thirty feet. Suddenly, the air is pierced with a bone-jarring roar, one of confusion and anguish and anger. I whip my head around. What was that? _Who_ was that?

A large blue dragon-like creature is suspending its head over the water, mouth open, ready to unleash another roar. A Gyarados? But those are never out this time of year, it is why the Feebas pick this time to come to mate, when the Gyarados migrate away from the shoreline! But wait, I know this Gyarados. I've seen it before!

It unleashes another howl and I hop off my rock and speed towards it until I am sidled next to it, a stupid thing my instinct is telling me to avoid. The only reason a Magikarp can evolve is if it gets angry enough, and if a Gyarados is supposed to be migrating somewhere else at this time, it can only mean it has just evolved. And that means extremely angry. Angry Gyarados have been known to be killers.

Still, I continue my swimming, waving my tail as fast as I can in order to reach it before it becomes too violent. The Gyarados roars me a warning, but I ignore it and don't stop until I can wrap myself around it and rub my head against it. This is the Magikarp! He's a Gyarados now!

It stops thrashing and roaring and arcs his neck gracefully, looking down with steely eyes. Dangerous eyes. Caring eyes.

He evolved for me! My Magikarp evolved for me! I'm so happy I let out another tone, this one light, airy, and pleasant. He returns the note with a happy growl and lets me rub my head against his neck.

My life isn't so worthless anymore.

**A/N: This is a pretty fail chapter. Srsly, you have no idea how hard it was for me to get into the mind of a pokemon. Like, it's tiring! Especially because it took so long and I still have to write two more chapters and post three, all within the span of a week. If I hurry, I can get X posted by Sunday. **

**Also, this is rushed for the same reason as above. Too much to do, little time to do it, as the deadline is fast approaching. **

**And if I don't mention Blake Wilson again, I'm a sinner. He helped me too much with this than he should have. Like, I'm sorry I wasted so much of his time with worrying about this. I also referred back to his story Evolved quite a lot, but it just isn't the same. So thank you to him, I promise I won't mention him again!**


	24. XENIAL Summer

**A/N: It took me forever to find this ship name. I had thought it didn't exist for the longest time, but enough Googling found me an answer. I've never thought about it before, but I thin k it's kinda cute. When you get past the clash of personalities, of course.**

**Prompt: Xenial (Gifts given to strangers, according to ARFM-ARFY.)  
Pairing: Flint/Jasmine (Sunnyshipping)  
Note: Basically, in D/P/Pt, Jasmine's sole purpose is to give you Waterfall, right? She gives a gift to strangers. There's how this connects into the ptompt. No, that's not an obscure reference, what are you talking about?**

Summer was Flint's favorite season. All the cold from winter was gone, all the patches of snow had melted, (except in Snowpoint, and he had no idea how Candice could stand it!) and the sun came out and brought new life to the farthest reaches of the region. But his main reason for loving summer so much, all poetic description aside?

Bikini season.

He'd grown up in Sunyshore his whole life, leaving when he was seventeen to begin training for the Elite Four competitions, where he was determined to get a place in the League, but he never got tired of it. As soon as the sun rose, the girls would invade the beach, wanting to be the first to find the prime real estate of sandy beach to lay their towel or set up their volleyball net. Flint was never much of an early riser, but it wasn't like the girls were going to be gone at noon anyway. So every weekend over the summer, Flint would head down to the coastal city around ten in the morning and wouldn't be back until the last bonfire of the day was extinguished on Sunday night.

Volkner stopped caring that Flint made a fool of himself years ago through this cycle. Besides, the girl could handle themselves at this age. If Flint got particularly handy with a girl, she knew how to raise a hand and fight back with a slap, sending Flint slinking away, though he'd still cast a few longing glances over his shoulder.

It wasn't like he never got any action at all, mind you. Plenty of girls were snared into his little flirting traps. However, Flint knew his limits, as he wasn't exactly the 'commitment' kind of person, what with being gone to the League all the time, so he kept any "srs biznes u gaiz" to a bare minimum.

Today, Flint wasn't on the beach itself, but on the large walkway over it, leaning on the railing and looking at the pretty girls, his eye particularly drawn to a cute, skinny blonde in a hot pink bathing suit. She was playing an avid game of beach volleyball with her friends, all of whom were very attractive themselves, all in a myriad of bright colors and skimpy suits. He couldn't see much detail from where he was, but he could see bouncing when it mattered, and it definitely mattered.

The volleyball was hit exceptionally hard by a girl with stark-black hair and the blonde in the pink suit scolded her playfully before running off to get the ball. It had stopped at the feet of a lone girl, standing alone in the sand.

Flint did a double-take. She was on the shorter side, with dark, tanned olive skin with light brown hair that was pulled back from her face in two small pigtails that stuck out from little yellow beads on the sides of her head. The rest of her hair hung down to her lower back. She was wearing a white sun dress with thick tank straps. It fell to her knees where it fanned out, blowing slightly in the breeze. A large white bow was sitting on the front, over her chest.

She held her hands clasped in front of her, her arms close to her body, her shoulders raised up to her ears. Her knees looked like they were continually knocking together. She would glance around timidly as people passed her. Flint's eye immediately glued to her. She looked so very out of place on the lively beach, it was impossible not to! He wondered why he hadn't noticed her before.

The blonde in the bikini wasn't quite so important now. She skipped up to the mystery girl and apologized for the ball straying off course. The girl picked up the ball with a small nod that Flint barely saw at his distance and handed it to the blonde, who ran back to her game triumphantly.

A couple more people came up to her, trying to get her to talk or just passing with a "Hello," but the girl did little more than nod at them, her mouth hardly moving the entire time. Flint was up on the walkway much longer than he expected to be, but the girl was too mesmerizing to look at! The way her skirt blew in the breeze, the way she stood, looking so small among the others. Something abut her aura was attracting him, and she was darn adorable besides! He leaned over the railing on his elbows, his chin in his hands, a goofy smile plastered on his face as he stared on, watching the salty breeze blow through her hair.

"What are you staring at?" said a voice from behind him. Flint didn't even bother turning around, but continued staring.

"That girl down there, on the beach." he said with a sigh. Volkner shook his head when he stepped up to the railing with his friend and looked out into the sand.

"Which one? The one with the hot pink suit? Another of your prospects?"

"No!" Flint rejected that notion immediately. "Stupid, the one in the dress, just standing there. You know, pretty much the only one with clothes on on the entire beach?"

"Clothes? Wow, I'm proud of you, going after the more modest girls now." Volkner teased, but groaned when he spotted her. "Uh oh. She's Jasmine, from Johto." he explained. "She's started coming over here for the summer to supply trainers with the HM Waterfall, since none of the gym leaders around here have any reason to climb waterfalls on a huge continent and therefore don't have Waterfall. Well, maybe Crasher Wake, but nobody would stick around him long enough to find out..."

"Orly?" Flint raised an eyebrow. "So she's not from around here?"

"Don't go getting any ideas, Flint. You won't have any luck with her anyway." Volkner tried to explain. "She's very shy and you..." he trailed off, looking Flint up and down, from his bright red afro to his contrasting yellow shirt to his baggy jeans to his mandals. "you're not."

"Oh, whatever." Flint waved a hand posh-style. "You know my natural charm. I have a sun-kissed personality, who _wouldn't_ be able to resist my charm?" He elbowed Volkner in the ribs with a smarmy wink. Volkner didn't twitch.

"I would."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. Remember tenth grade?" He laughed as Volkner turned bright red.

"Okay, that doesn't count! We were at a birthday party and the girls thought it would be a bright idea to play Spin the Bottle, and I had to do what the little stupid piece of paper told me to, and it _just so happened_ to land on you, so shut up about that already!" He folded his arms and glared off into the distance, his head turned away. Flint slung an arm around his shoulders and walked a couple of fingers up his friend's chest, who swatted them away quickly.

"Yeah, and wasn't it one of the girls who had to pull you off of me?" he asked. "And didn't you tell me later that you thought I was an excellent kisser, despite you being like, one of the most popular kids and therefore having kissed multiple girls by that time?"

"I said shut up!" he seethed, his red turning into a dark maroon now. "You know what, fine, go try and woo Jasmine, see if I care, and don't say I didn't warn you about her."

"Thanks Volkie, you're a peacha berry." Flint darted off, just like that, toward the stairs leading down to the beach. Volkner straightened out his jacket and rolled his eyes. Flint's downfall would be his attitude towards his ability with girls, he just knew it.

Once down the stairs, Flint took a moment to smooth down his pants and, to fluff up the parts of his hair that were getting flat, to straighten out the collar on his shirt, and to adjust the positioning of his wristbands before heading out. A girl passing by him with her friends laughed as she saw him. She was one of the girls he had gotten together with the summer before, and she knew his signs.

"Another conquest, Flint?" she asked. "Do you ever learn?"

"No, not really." he answered, checking his nails quickly for any stray dirt. "You of all people should know that, after you smacked me I don't know _how_ many times."

"Well, I wish you better luck than you had with me." she said, her friends laughing behind her as she headed off to Flint's parting salute. He actually managed to wrench his gaze away from her backside (a trait he had focused much on during his time pursuing her,) and focused it on this new girl, Jasmine.

She was standing out in the middle of the beach, exactly the way she had been before Flint had seen her from the walkway; timid, shy, and out-of-place. He took a deep breath and puffed out his chest. He had to be suave, sophisticated. Smooth, yet gentle. The shy girls were always harder to open up.

"Hey there, how are you?" He strode up to Jasmine, one of his signature grins on his face. She turned pink and clasped her hands behind her back, staring at the ground.

"I'm fine." Her voice was small, delicate. "Um, are you a trainer?" She dared to look up at him, through her lashes, which Flint was shocked to find out were natural, no makeup involved. In fact, her entire face was clear of it, he noticed. She had to live on some sort of coastal city, in order to get that sun-kissed glow her skin had. He nodded confidently, smile widening when she did meet his eye.

"Yes, I am." he announced. "Why do you ask?" As if he didn't already know...

"Well," she seemed a little more confident about herself now, much more in her element. Of course, she had probably practiced what she was going to say by now. "I'm assuming you're going to challenge the Pokemon League, right? Then you'll need this to reach them."

She held out a bright, watery-blue, hand-sized machine that whirred happily in her palm. The HM for Waterfall. Of course, Flint _did_ already have it, back when he had challenged the Elite Four as a boy. Hoenn, being _mostly_ water and all, almost demanded that any trainer get the HM in some way before they even reached the second gym. Depending on Old Man Briney's mood when you asked him for a ride.

"Thanks, but uh," he reached around to scratch the back of his head in a practiced-embarrassed fashion, "I'm actually a fire-type trainer and don't have any pokemon that can learn the move."

Jasmine stopped to look at him for a moment, and Flint waited with baited breath, hoping his paranoia of her recognizing him was just in his head. She cocked her head, and he had to resist the urge to melt into a little puddle of mush right there. She was completely adorable, there was no other way to describe it. She was tiny, petite, but thin. Her eyes were big, like a little girl's eyes, but showed the maturity of a woman. They were a steely gray, hard, yet timid. Her tanned cheeks were eternally ink from her perma-blush. Her dress, like her hair, seemed to float around her in the breeze, not just blowing to one side like everything else when in contact with the wind. It brushed lightly against her skin beneath it, and his mind began to wander. He felt his own cheeks begin to tint, and he wondered why, since he'd never had a problem with thinking that kind of stuff before. Maybe it was the intense gaze she was giving him, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Well," she dropped her eyes and put the HM back into her pocket, "I guess you'll need to get a water pokemon for yourself before this will be of any use to you."

Flint opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it, and closed it again. She wasn't supposed to say that! Now he had to go find himself a water pokemon! She turned away, and Flint took that as a dismissal. But where was he going to find a wild pokemon strong enough to be an equal match to any of _his_ pokemon? By the time he found one, summer would already be over and Jasmine would have left, back to her home. She'd be gone!

He could borrow Bertha's Quagsire! That's it! Only, that wouldn't work. He was reminded that it was Bertha, and she wouldn't lend him one of her pokemon in order to attempt to win the heart of another girl. There was Cynthia and her Milotic, but that pokemon _hated_ him with a passion. So who else had a water pokemon he could borrow?

Glancing around, his eye was snagged on the top of a choppy blonde head that was poking above the railing on the giant walkway. He snapped his fingers triumphantly and shot off toward the stairs, taking them two at a time until he got to the top, where he dashed across the solar panels toward his target.

"Volkner!" he shouted, waving his arms above his head. "Volkner, ol' buddy ol' pal!"

"Whatever it is, I refuse."

"Can I borrow Octillery?"

"No." Volkner crossed his arms. "I'll get it back entirely traumatized, or in pieces, or in art of a sushi dinner or something."

"Only for the afternoon." he begged. Flint folded his hands in front of him, clasped under his chin. "Please? I need a water pokemon!"

"I said no."

"Pleeeeeaaaaaase?" Flint got down on his knees, hands still clasped. "I don't have a pokemon that can learn waterfall!"

"Stop it, you're making a scene." Volkner mumbled down at him.

"_Pllleeeeeaaaaaaaassseee_?" Flint drew out the word as much as he possibly could, his whine comparable to that of squealing car tires. "Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease?"

"Arceus, _shut up_!" Volkner grabbed Flint's collar in one fist and pulled him to his feet, trying to ignore the stares of the people passing by. "Give me one good reason why I should."

"Because you're my bff?" Flint supplied his eyes looking hopeful. "You know, like Jill?"

"A better reason."

"I'll stop teasing you about that time in tenth grade." Flint bargained, raising his eyebrows suggestively. "I won't say a word about it anymore for a long time."

"Deal." He let Flint down and Flint went in to give him a hug, but Volkner pushed him roughly away with the hand still clenched around his shirt. When he let go, Flint straightened himself out while Volkner dug out his Octillery, looking at it firmly through the red shell of the ball.

"Whatever he does to you, don't let him do it." he told it. "No learning Waterfall, no battles, and no letting him leave you behind anywhere."

Flint nabbed the ball out of Volkner's hand, then shoved it deep within his pocket as he took off for the stairs once more. "You won't be sorry, thank you!" Volkner watched him go with a sinking feeling in his gut. Best friend or no, Flint was known to be reckless and didn't always think things through properly when he got into a certain mood.

Flint, oblivious to Volkner's discomfort, bounded back onto the beach, completely bypassing a towel full of thin girls dressed in scanty bikinis. They had all seen him dashing toward the beach, and each one thought he was making a beeline for the towel, so they were all preparing their best rejection lines while simultaneously posing as attractively as they could. But he ran right past them, kicking up sand in his wake and dashing it all over them, from head to toe. They all jumped back, blinked, coughed, or sputtered when he passed, shaking sand out of their hair. He had just...passed them by?

He dug his heels into the sand to stop himself, spraying sand all over Jasmine form her waist down. She bit her lip nervously as he dug around in his pocket for a moment. "There! I caught a water pokemon! Now can I teach it Waterfall?" he asked as she turned the pokeball over in her hands. "Please?"

"An Octillery?" I didn't know they were native to Sinnoh." she mumbled. Flint shrugged it off.

"Yeah, weird, right?" he released the pokemon into the sand, where it looked up at him with the same, weary expressing its real owner tended to wear around his best friend. "So I get to learn Waterfall, right? Because I'm an inexperienced trainer, after all."

Jasmine looked up at him with her wide, stormy-grey eyes. He waited with baited breath and stepped closer, and her cheeks tinged a brighter pink. "Sure, I...I guess so."

A hand extended in front of her, but Flint waited a long moment before reaching out to take the HM, continuing to stare into her eyes a moment longer. When he took SWaterfall from her hand, he let his fingers brush over her skin lightly, from the inside of her wrist to the center of her palm. She broke their gaze and looked down and to the side, rubbing her right arm with her left hand nervously. "Well...there you go..."

"Come here, Octillery!" Flint called. "Time to teach you Waterfall!" He winked at the pokemon in a way he fashioned to be sneaky. Yeah, he wasn't _really_ going to teach it the HM, especially since it wasn't his, but he has to make it look believable, right? He fell back to his haunches to squat at its level. The Octillery began to move forward, only to hear a stern voice echoing in its head.

"_Don't learn Waterfall."_

With a quick pause, the octopus pokemon scuttled backward and sent a jet of ink at Flint, nailing him square in the face. Flint spat the ink out of his mouth but fell over, backwards, into the soft, fine sand. "Octillery, what's up? You don't want to learn Waterfall?"

_What does it think that wink meant? Of _course_ I'm not going to teach it Waterfall!_ He thought. But of course, he couldn't really say it aloud, what with Jasmine next to him. She'd either become completely offended, something he wanted to prevent, or figure out what he was trying to do and become offended. Neither of which sounded like a good option, so he just crept closer to the big red octopus, trying to coax it back. "Come on, don't worry, everything's going to be fine!"

Octilery shot another jet of ink at Flint, who fell face-first into the sand, and turned to run back to its owner, who was standing on the edge of the beach, looking on amusedly. Flint didn't dare move, didn't dare breathe when Octillery left. He knew Jasmine saw, he knew she knew who Volkner was. Immediately, his plan crash-landed around his ankles like a kindergartener flying an airplane. He was in trouble. He didn't want to lift his head, to see Jasmine's face. He just wanted to lie there, covered in ink, his face lying in the sand. So that's exactly what he did.

The sand beside him shifted. Jasmine crouched down next to him, her knees pulled up to her chest. Flint glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his lip sticking out in a pout. He was going to be told off again. It wasn't as if it was the first time, but had a more depressing weight to it than usual. Like he cared more.

Who was he kidding, of _course_ he cared more! She was different. She didn't try to be flashy or pretty, she was just herself. She was more appealing in a simple white dress than a bright bikini. She didn't need makeup to look pretty. She was modest and shy, the complete opposite of him, and that intrigued him. She sparked his interest! And now he'd lost his only chance at getting to know a girl unlike any he'd ever met before.

"You borrowed Volkner's Octillery?" Her hand touched his shoulder lightly, resting there. "And you're not really a trainer, Flint. Why would you lie?" He sighed.

"Volkner said you only talked to trainers, so you could give them waterfall. He said you were shy otherwise. And I wanted to talk to you." he admitted. "I'd never seen you before, and something about you was different. A good kind of different."

"Just because I'm shy doesn't mean I won't talk to you." she said. "Besides, did you really think you could fool me? I've been to the conferences, I've seen you before. Your hair isn't as subtle as you think." She let out a giggle, and Flint felt an involuntary smile creep up on his face for a moment. "I'm like you, I talk to people who interest me, who I feel comfortable around. Why else would I play along with your stupid little scheme?"

Flint rolled over onto his back and looked up at her. Her grey eyes were softer, gentler. They were staring into his confidently, something he hadn't seen in them before now. She was smiling, despite her perma-blush, and she shook her head lightly.

"You need to give me a little more credit next time." She tapped one forefinger to the tip of his nose and he wiggled it. She giggled again, but held out her hand as she stood up. "Come on, I can take a little break if you can." she smiled. Flint took her offered hand with a grin and hoisted himself up. She was surprisingly strong, for how thin and small she was. However, he continued to hold her hand, even in his standing, and tucked it between them as he exited the beach.

Volkner, leaning against one of the railings, shook his head at Flint as he watched him leave with Jasmine. How was it that guy did it?

Flint turned to give him a victory wink at the last second, sticking out his tongue for good measure in a very "Ha, I win" sort of gesture. He rolled his eyes and made his own little kissy face at Flint, who laughed and shrugged.

Yes, summer was a fantastic season indeed.

**A/N: Seven pages? Ugh, I shouldn't be writing so much, especially since I'll have zero time for writing next week, due to swim practice entering Hell Week and Prom on Saturday, the day before the deadline. I'm such a procrastinator. **

**Y will be hard, since I don't have a knack for this pairing like I've been told. Up next will be yet another over-used plot device. I'm so not creative.**


	25. No More YIELDing

**A/N: I can't find it in my heart to be serious with this chapter. I can't think of a decent pairing, first of all, I can't think of anything to fit the prompts, secondly, and I'm feeling so lazy. Practice for swimming was more brutal than usual today, and Prom is Saturday and people suck at planning so I had to do everything myself. And school ends in like, three weeks, and I get to do the most awesome song for my final project for Sign Language. All in all, I'm starting not to care. I have Z written, so this is my last chapter to do, and I'm not up to it. **

**So, in essence, here's some bad drama spoofy greatness that you're supposed to laugh at while simultaneously thinking I'm awesome. Ready? GO!**

**Prompt: Yield  
Pairing: Dawn/Riley (IronWillshipping)  
Warning: This is ridiculous.**

Clouds had gathered overhead. A stormy, grey sea writhed out on the horizon, the wind dashing it against the rocks at the bottom of a tall cliff that overlooked said sea. However, a girl was standing on the ledge of the cliff, looking out, her eyes matching the turmoil of the sea, wave for wave. Her hands were tucked beneath her chin, guarding the warmth that was slowly being stripped away from her by the persistent wind.

"I'm sorry, Dawn." A man was standing behind her, his jacket flapping around him. He wanted to reach out a hand to the girl, to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, to tell her everything was going to be okay. But not everything was going to be okay. Everything was going to change... Because of him.

"Why did you do it, Riley?" said the girl, her words whipping around him like thousands of shards of ice. "Don't you care about me anymore? Don't you care about..." she trailed off and turned in perfect tempo with a flash of lightning, the light reflecting in her eyes. "About us?"

"I was only doing it to protect you, Dawn! You were the first thing on my mind, I promise." He brought his outstretched arm back to himself to hang it limply at his side. The brim of his hat fluttered in the wind, and thunder immediately made him cringe as soon as he said his words. The thunder that mirrored Dawn's hurt, her sadness. Neither wanted to meet the other's eye, and as they looked away, the storm eased just a moment.

"How could you be thinking of me when you're going to ship off tomorrow?" she asked. She focused solely on her feet planted in the ground and her skirt she had to keep from flying up with every gust of wind. If she didn't focus on something, it would be harder to keep back her tears. "How could you being away, in harm's way every day, be a good thing for me?"

Riley raised his head to meet her gaze. Her pitiful, pleading gaze. Now it wasn't the thunder that was bringing out the mood, but the rain. Rain that dropped slowly for a moment before it came down in sheets around them. They should have been inside, having this discussion over a mug of hot chocolate, but Dawn had bolted when he had told her. But what he really cared about was Dawn herself. She hadn't shed a tear since she had been told. Did that mean..?

"I did it for us. So that when I come back," not if, _when,_ "we can live together. We can have a life, we won't have to work like dogs to make a simple living. So we can be happy, Dawn. Happy at last!"

"I don't need a house to be happy when I have you, Riley!" The thunder rumbled and the rain pounded heavier. "I don't care if we live in a cardboard box! The only thing I want is you by my side, and you being at war makes that impossible!" She felt her cheeks wet with rain and forgot about trying to hold in her sadness. She let them fall, her tears fat as the raindrops pelting them both. "If you really loved me, you would see that!"

He took three striding steps forward and embraced her to him, letting her bury her face into his shoulder. As if holding her close enough would dry her tears, would keep her from being as sad as she was. Would keep her from worrying about it. Why couldn't she see he was doing it all for her? Dawn took his jacket lapels in her hands and clenched them, as if her hold could keep him there. If she held on tight enough, he wouldn't leave.

Dawn, I have very few options." he whispered, his chin resting on her head. "With this failing economy, I can't afford to keep this up. Job-hopping is barely keeping us afloat as it is. This is one of the only ways to make money anymore, and I want to do it for you." He tilted her chin up in one hand and planted one light kiss on her wet lips. "I want you and I to have the happiest life possible. No more holding back, no more yielding. We're going to push through this together and have the greatest life of all when I return."

She sniffed and looked up at him with her big blue eyes. Eyes that shouldn't ever have to experience such sadness as this. Eyes that were mature beyond her age. Eyes that were windows to her inner self, to what mattered most to him, not just her looks. Her mouth continued to frown, her lip to quiver, but in her eyes he saw a glimmer of hope, of understanding, belief, and trust. Dawn wrapped her arms around Riley and squeezed, hugging him like never before. Like he was her last hold on reality.

The rain had lightened up, no more pounding. She could look up at him without having to blink a drop out every moment. His black hair was hanging in his face, and his blue eyes under it were almost pleading with her to understand. She did understand, though. She did know that he meant well, as much as she disliked the idea. She trusted him. No more holding back, he was right. No more yielding.

"Riley, I love you." she whispered, her words almost swept away on the wind. But he understood.

"I love you too, Dawn, and nothing is ever going to come between us, I promise you." Riley answered, his voice almost as quiet. With that, he leaned down and kissed her, pouring himself into it. If it was going to be their last kiss, he was going to make it count.

Except, kissing turned into making out, which turned into an occasional grope here and there. Which turned into Dawn pretty much more or less losing her shirt, and Riley his.

And so they did it. Right there, in the rain, on the cliff. In the open. Because they didn't yield, they didn't hold back. And they would have many dark-haired, blue-eyed babies in the future and live happily ever after.

The end.

**A/N: Ridiculous to the max, yo. I'm so ashamed to put my name on this, for it is nothing like how I usually write and has drama and angst and stuff. Gag me with a spoon. But not everyone laughs at SRS BSNS drama like I do, so this probably won't be so funny to you as it was to me writing it. Except maybe the end, but that was thrown in there for the people who don't find it funny like me anyway. Gah, I should stop talking. **


	26. The ZENITH of our Relationship

**A/N: You know that poll you've been taking this whole time? (Or, the one you were SUPPOSED to take in order to understand this chapter?) Yeah, it comes into effect now. I'm sorry if I broke your brains with that video, but it was absolutely necessary.**

**Also, if you've never reviewed, will you please do so, seeing as this is the last chapter? Just tell me your favorite chapter, you lurkers, and I'll be happy. As for everyone else... do the same, tell me your favorite chapter(s) and your least favorite ones, now that this is over. Thank you! (Note: This is not a clever ploy to get reviews, this is me sincerely wanting to know what you think, or thought.)  
**

**Pairing: Ashyboyshipping (Gary/Duplica! This is my favorite pairing of all time and I've never written it before, what?)  
Prompt: Zenith  
Warning: There's a bit of some heavy language in one part, but don't get offended, and little bit of some birthday present remberance in previous years, tee hee.**

"Duplica!" Gary was seated at the computer, his nose nearly touching the screen, and a big, dorky smile on his face. "Duplica, you have to come see this!"

The girl in question rolled her eyes. She was seated at the couch, looking at the television without really seeing it. Gary had been calling her over to the computer for a good portion of the afternoon to watch stupid videos on that website called 'Youtube,' Even if she had been trying to watch the worst soap opera known to existence that was on the screen right now, she wouldn't have been able to with Gary either laughing hysterically at the screen every time he watched the stupid video, or calling her over to watch another one.

"Gary, if it's another one of your stupid videos…"

"It's not, I promise! This one is actually hilarious!" he said. She doubted it, but stood up anyway and leaned against the back of the chair, her chin resting atop Gary's choppy brown hair. On the screen, there was a video of a man with tall, spiky black hair and positively _huge_ shoulder pads over what looked like a blue spandex suit. Once she was in place, Gary pressed the play button.

"Vegeta, what does the Scouter say about his power level?" said a guy who was wearing next to nothing and was so incredibly buff it was disgusting.

The man with the slue spandex pulled off this little red eyepiece machine thing and he got real mad. "It's over NINE THOUSAAAAANDD!" he screamed, breaking the little device in his hand into lots of little pieces. And then the video repeated in many different ways, changing the voices, changing the angles, adding in stuff, bleeping out stuff, and, quite honestly, making the video that much _less_ hilarious. Duplica sighed and stood back up to her proper height while Gary burst into a fit of laughter when a different part came on.

"Come on, you can't tell me that's _not_ funny!" he gasped between laughs. Duplica folded her arms across her chest.

"It's not funny." she said, voice deadpanned. "The Pikachu one was funnier."

"Iiiiiiit's Koffing!" Gary said, raising his eyebrows and imitating the 'Who's That Pokemon?!' announcer. "GOD _DAMNIT_!" he then yelled, imitating the little boy who had shouted "IT'S PIKACHU!" when the outline was still black for the first part of the game. Duplica suppressed a smile when he did that. As big of a jerk as he was, Gary was pretty ridiculous sometimes.

"Worse than CGI Zelda?" he asked after he realized he wasn't going to get a better reaction out of her than the small smile. Her face dropped fifteen points on the amused scale.

"No, nothing could be worse than CGI Zelda." she said. "There is _no way._"

"Mah boi." Gary added, making himself smile at his little joke. Duplica rolled her eyes and went back to the couch to watch the soap about a Gardevoir that refused to listen to her trainer because he traded her lover, (his Lopbunny,) to a girl trainer he liked but didn't know it was his older brother's wife that continued to cheat on him.

But, that was the previous day. Today was much less lighthearted at the moment.

Duplica paced around her dressing room. Today was Gary's birthday, and she had completely forgotten! What could she do to make it up to him? It was six in the morning, and Gary would be up in an hour, and she didn't have time to run to the store and back before he woke up! What had she gotten him last year and the year before that?

Well, both times, she'd forgotten then, too. But the year before she had dressed up as Officer Jenny. Except, just so that he'd not get annoyed by her forgetting a present, she altered a bit. Like, shortening the skirt and adding a pair of handcuffs to her belt, and unbuttoning the top a little more than necessary… Gary _had liked_ that.

The year before that, she had worn a Nurse Joy outfit. That hadn't needed altering at all, actually. Gary's eyes had practically popped out of his head when he saw her downstairs, making breakfast for him that morning.

So what could she do this year? It wasn't like she could throw on one of those outfits again, he'd know she'd forgotten again! And it wasn't like she had another outfit that could be considered another 'sexy' profession. Maybe a teacher? But she didn't really have a teacher outfit… did she?

Quickly, she ran over to the last rack of mostly unused clothes and dug through them. A leopard print skirt, a pair of purple boots, a prom dress, a blue wetsuit, an orange pumpkin costume, a pair of football pads…

Wait. She backtracked over to the blue wetsuit. She slipped it on, and it hugged her form perfectly. She looked down at herself in thought, examining her slim waist and curvy hips. Maybe this would work out after all…

She quickly grabbed the football shoulder pads and dragged them over to her desk, where she set to work with a bottle of paint and various other crafty things she would be needing to transform this simple, rag-tag outfit into something amazing.

Around this point, she kind of forgot about the cinnamon rolls downstairs in the oven, and kind of forgot that they would need to be taken out soon.

Xxxx

Gary rolled over on the large bed to wrap his arms around his girlfriend-of-five-years. Only, he just felt a cold expanse of bed beside him instead. He opened one lazy eye and peered out of it to scan the room. The vanity? Empty. The shower? Off. But there was a smell coming from downstairs that smelled a lot like breakfast. But that was ruining his plans! He needed her in bed. He was going to do something so romantic that even she couldn't help but love it. But he sighed dejectedly and rolled off the other way, planting his feet on the carpeted floor, grabbing something out of his bedside table drawer, and trooping out downstairs for some of that breakfast.

But Duplica wasn't down there. Instead, the kitchen was empty, and the coffee pot was going, heating up the drink just the way he liked it. At this he smiled. She didn't do this often, so he knew this was in honor of his birthday. He made himself a cup, and heard her dainty footsteps on the stairs, coming down slowly. She probably had another big surprise for him like the last two years. He smiled at this, too. But that smell of breakfast was getting ranker and ranker. What was she making? Charcoal?

He went over to the oven and opened it, and immediately black smoke began billowing out of it. He coughed and sputtered, unable to see, and heard her stop somewhere outside of the kitchen.

"Duplica! You're burning breakfast!" He coughed, waving the smoke away. Once he was successful in that mission, he reached out to turn the oven off. "Duplica, these were in here _way_ too long! What temperature did you think cinnamon rolls were baked at?!"

Gary almost wished he hadn't said it. He turned to the doorway just as Duplica leapt into it. Well, he _thought_ it was Duplica, anyway.

"I thought they were baked at _OVER NINE THOUSAAAAANDD_!" she shouted, taking off what looked like half a pair of glasses with red-tinted lenses and smashing it in her hands. Her hair was teased up in a tall, black, spiky hairdo, and she was wearing some sort of blue spandex suit with football pads over it, ones that made her look nearly identical to-

"Vegeta? Duplica, did you really just dress up like-?"

"Yes, I did!" she said brightly, coming into the room and doing a little twirl with her arms outstretched. "I thought you might like this better than, er, what I had planned."

Gary looked her up and down. For once, her thick eyebrows actually matched the outfit she was wearing! But, no matter how Dragon Ball Z she looked, her girlish figure was still visible through her skin-tight suit, which upon closer inspection, he discovered to be a wetsuit. Maybe he didn't have to wait until the next morning to be all romantic like he had thought. Maybe, if he played his cards right, this could work out in his favor.

"Well, I like it. It's probably one of the greatest birthday presents you've given me before." he laughed, taking her up into his arms. She smiled up at him. "Maybe not as good as your Officer Jenny one with the handcuffs, but pretty close."

"Thanks. I was up all night working on it." she lied, with a nervous glance off in the other direction. But then, Gary didn't have to know that! It was only one little slip-up. Exaggeration wouldn't hurt anything.

"No wonder I couldn't find you this morning." Gary said, squeezing her once more. "I had something I wanted to give you."

"On your own birthday?" she asked. Gary nodded, then dropped one of his hands and dug around in his pocket.

"Speaking of," he said, then pulled it out, showing her the little black box resting on the palm of his hand. Her eyes widened and she gasped as he knelt down and took one of her hands - her left hand - in his and opening up the box to reveal a gold ring inside, set with one diamond in the middle, encircled by several, smaller ones. Though she couldn't see it, on the inside was the inscription 'To Duplica, my CopyCat forever.' "Duplica, I have a question for you."

"Oh, Gary, yes!" Duplica breathed, her eyes beginning to shine with tears as he slipped the ring onto her finger. "But I… we… you…" she couldn't seem to find the right words. "Gary, how much did this _cost_?"

Gary stood up and planted one gentle kiss on the tip of her nose before embracing her once more in his strong arms, his eyes locked with hers, sparkling, whether it be from amusement or relief or joy or love, she couldn't tell. "We'll just say, over nine thousand." he said, then bent down and kissed her.

**A/N: I really couldn't help myself. It may be a bit vague to understand, but ARFM-ARFY said that zenith was like maximum power, and you kind of assume that if his power level is OVER NINE THOUSAAAAANDD!! then it's pretty much maximum power.**

**Wow. 39 different characters and 26 different pairings. I'm like... amazing. I feel very proud of myself and accomplished! I'll leave my final thoughts in a different chapter after the judging.  
**

**But it's not done yet! After the judging, check back to look for that awesome chapter I promised for you guys since this story broke my 100+review virginity. But I have to update my other story first, it's been a while.**

**I love you all, thank you, and wish me luck with this thing!**


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